


Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic

by MittenWraith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathtub Sex, Case Fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubiously Helpful Woodland Creatures, Explicit Consent, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Ridiculous Honesty Smut, Sharing a Bed, Truth Spells, the woodland creatures are not in any way involved with the smut >.>, tub sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:31:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith
Summary: Strange things were happening in a small town in Northern Maine that had gained a reputation as the most honest town in the world in only a matter of weeks. Residents were going out of their way to confess their sins-- everything from jaywalking to murder, infidelity to true love. Sam, Dean and Cas all have their own reasons for wanting to stay far away from an honesty curse, but with Jack and his natural bluntness serving as their last line of defense, they decide to investigate. The last thing they need is another Veritas situation on their hands. The honest little town might be enjoying their newfound liberty to speak their minds, but the cause of this particular curse might prove to be Dean and Cas’s undoing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aah, another year, another Dean/Cas Pinefest filled with pining, and this time filled with actual pines! In the Pine Tree State!
> 
> I'd like to thank my lovely artist, [bihuntersandgayangels](https://bihuntersandgayangels.tumblr.com), who you can find [here on ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bihuntersandgayangels). I'd also like to thank [Lizbob](http://elizabethrobertajones.tumblr.com) and [MalMuses](http://malmuses.tumblr.com) for beta reading and general support.
> 
> And yes, I know this has a tag for "truth spell" up there, but for anyone worried, there is NO non-con or dub-con in this fic. Everyone is in full possession of their free will.

They’d parked out by Silver Lake, hidden from the road by one of the cabins that was inevitably unoccupied that late in the season. The full October moon sparkled on the surface of the water, ripples rising and falling on the light breeze. It was far too chilly for anything Dave might’ve thought was going to happen.

He was still drinking, first off. Melanie had switched to the flask of tea she’d brought with her after a single beer, knowing from her friend Sara who’d gone out with Dave a few months back that he tended to get handsy after a few beers. She wasn’t even sure why she’d agreed to go for a drive with him, but she sipped her tea and stared out at the lake, fairly certain it was more out of boredom than anything. 

“On second thought, I think I was less bored at home,” she said aloud, switching off the radio Dave had set to play some awful, cheesy romantic mix.

Dave’s wandering attention snapped to Melanie and he frowned at her for just a moment. “What?”

“I’d like you to take me home now,” she insisted. “We both know this isn’t going anywhere, because you’d rather be out with Sara, even though she dumped you for Tyler Stevens. I’d rather be home reading that new Supernatural fanfic BeckyWinchester176 posted last night. I can’t do anything about your problem, but I can definitely do something about mine. If you’ll take me home now.”

Dave’s frown intensified, and he chose to ignore Melanie’s assessment of what he’d rather be doing. “I thought we were having a good time? And I’m over Sara. We broke up months ago.”

Melanie just shook her head sadly and laid a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t love you. Not like you love her. You need to move on.” It was Melanie’s turn to frown as she withdrew her hand. “Just, not with me.”

She offered him her flask of tea, both to help him sober up enough to drive and to warm him up. It was the closest thing to a hug she was willing to give him. After a moment, he accepted.

“I know you’re right,” he said to her as they trundled down the dirt road back to the highway. “It’s not fair to you. I know you and Sara are good friends, and I thought maybe if I just drank enough I could pretend for a while that you were her and she was still with me.” He rolled down his window and poured the rest of his beer out on the ground with a sigh. “Me and Sara weren’t right for each other, but I guess she was just my first love and it’s hard to let that go even if it’s time to move on.”

Melanie smiled sadly at him. “I know how it is. We’re seniors this year, it’s not like we’re on a deadline. You’ll meet the right person eventually, I just know it’s not me.”

Dave smiled back at her, looking relieved to have admitted it, and drove Melanie home.

It was one of the least remarkable things that happened in the whole of Buckstown that day.

  


Dean sat at the kitchen table in the bunker, steadily plowing through a stack of pancakes. Sam had taken a pass on breakfast and decided to go out for a run instead. Jack had already come and gone, gobbling up Dean’s “mistakes” as he flipped them off the griddle, and Cas hadn’t even bothered waking up yet.

There was work to be done, even if they didn’t have a world-ending apocalyptic threat to deal with. Or even a new case to keep them occupied for the last few days. It was the perfect time to give Baby the sort of attention she’d been missing, and he’d picked up everything he needed to change her oil and give her a good wash and wax while he was at it.

He was sitting there mopping up maple syrup with a piece of bacon when Cas came shuffling in and headed right for the coffee pot. Dean’s daydream about driving Baby out into the crisp autumn sunlight, glinting through the falling leaves and sparkling in her fresh coat of wax, cut off instantly. He turned in his seat to instead cast a surprisingly similar look of bemused mirth on his grumpy and bed-headed best friend.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Dean said, taking a sip of his coffee. “There’s pancakes and bacon on the counter.”

Cas grunted out an acknowledgement and took a fortifying gulp of coffee. He let out a contented sigh as the first rush of caffeine hit his bloodstream and redirected its magical rejuvenating powers into fetching himself some breakfast. He sat down across from Dean and almost immediately made to stand up again to refill his mug. Dean stopped him with a hand on his wrist and reached around to grab the coffee pot to refill both of their mugs. Now well into his second cup, Cas was finally ready for social interaction.

“Hello, Dean. Thank you for breakfast. It’s very good.”

Dean smirked as he returned the pot to the counter behind him. “You haven’t even tasted it yet.”

Cas blinked up at Dean like he was being dense. “You make pancakes frequently, and they’re always good. I don’t see why that would be different today.”

Dean squirmed a little in his seat and half-heartedly nodded before going right back to eating his  _ very good _ pancakes. Cas took his first bite and gave a little hum of appreciation, which Dean did his best to ignore. It was hard enough controlling himself around Cas when he wasn’t being outright complimentary, and even harder when Cas looked so adorably rumpled.

His out of control feelings had only become more persistently stubborn since Cas had moved in to the bunker permanently. Sure it had sucked when Cas used to always leave on some random mission or another, but continuous exposure to Cas had given Dean absolutely no respite. His biggest fear now was that one of these days Cas was gonna do something so irresistibly adorable that he’d unwittingly do something unforgivable in response. Like kiss him. Or propose. Or worse. Dean had borne this burden for so long, he wasn’t sure if it was making him stronger, or just bringing him that much closer to snapping.

“You’re quiet this morning,” Cas said eventually, breaking into Dean’s carefully contained reverie. “Is something wrong?”

Dean shook himself off and cut another bite of pancake to have at the ready before he dared to open his mouth to answer. He cleared his throat. “Nah, just planning to do some work on the car today. Got a list of things to remember, is all.” He crammed the pancakes in his mouth before he did anything as dumb as invite Cas to help. Or ditching his plans entirely and asking if there was anything Cas wanted to do instead.

Cas nodded thoughtfully and continued eating for a minute or two, just long enough for Dean to think he was in the clear. “Would you mind if I observed your work today? I feel like I should know more about proper vehicle maintenance, especially now that I’m entirely reliant on automotive transportation.”

Dean froze with his last bite of pancake raised halfway to his mouth, debating whether to eat first or answer first. He chose sustenance, and chewed thoughtfully while giving Cas what he hoped was an approving face, and not betraying the tiny surge of panic at the thought of Cas becoming so self-sufficient he wouldn’t feel the need to hang around the bunker quite so much.  _ Or at all, _ a traitorous part of his brain unhelpfully supplied.

“Yeah, I guess you should know the basics, but you know I’m always around to help if you need it.” Yeah, that sounded encouraging without also sounding desperately clingy.

Cas smiled at him and gave a tiny nod before going back to demolishing his breakfast. Dean cleaned up the kitchen while Cas finished eating, and then there was no more distracting himself. Dean led the way to the garage while Cas asked him questions about what they were going to do.

Dean lectured Cas on the importance of regular maintenance, especially for an older car. He talked Cas through the process of draining out the old oil and replacing the filter, and then checking the level to make sure they’d added enough new oil to keep the engine running smooth. They’d been comfortably talking and joking with one another for so long by the time Cas rolled himself out from under the car that Dean thought nothing of reaching up to brush a smudge of grease off Cas’s forehead. He only froze after the fact, staring at his outstretched thumb like it had surrendered him to the FBI on multiple murder charges. He cleared his throat and tried to make another joke of it.

“Heh, hazards of responsible vehicle ownership,” he said, holding out his grease-smudged thumb as evidence in his defense. “It’s a messy job.”

Cas smiled and looked down at his own black-stained hands, holding them up for Dean to see. “I got that impression, yes.”

Dean just grunted, relieved that Cas hadn’t taken offense at the casual touching, and then immediately found another excuse to put a little distance between them. He hastily walked over to the sink and rinsed his hands while waiting for the water to warm up. “That’s why I always finish up with a good wash.” He set a bucket under the stream of water in the sink and squeezed a dollop of car wash soap into it, pouring some into his greasy hands as well and working up a lather. When his hands were mostly clean, he stepped aside with a nod to Cas, holding out the soap bottle in invitation.

Cas just stood there with his hands stretched out over the sink, waiting for Dean to douse him with the soap. Dean sighed and relented, coating his hands with the sudsy liquid as Cas smiled gratefully at him and began scrubbing off the grime.

“This is satisfying work,” Cas commented a while later as he sponged mud off the front bumper. “I can see why you find it relaxing. You can see the results of your labor instantly, and know you’ve accomplished something worthwhile.”

“Yeah, it’s its own reward, or whatever,” Dean replied absently while scraping a squashed bug off the windshield.

“Don’t belittle it, Dean,” Cas replied, standing up to hose away the soapsuds. “It’s important as well as rewarding. It’s an accomplishment to maintain a car as well as you’ve maintained Baby. It takes skill, patience, and dedication. And I appreciate you sharing your knowledge with me.”

Dean focused more intently on his squashed bug, and hoped his exertion and concentration could explain away the flush of his cheeks. He wished there was some way to explain to Cas that he couldn’t just say shit like that, but short of admitting why Cas’s easy honesty was so difficult for him to bear and potentially ruining everything with Cas with a confession of his probably unwanted feelings, anything he might say would leave him looking like a dick. So he sucked it up and shoved it all down and did his best to brush it off. He didn’t need to burden Cas with all his shit and risk losing the best friend he ever had in the process.

Dean finished his bug removal and let Cas hose away the last of the soap. He did his best to keep their conversation on safer subjects, talking about everything from the pie at the diner they ate at on their last case to wondering if Sam had found them something else to hunt yet. An hour later, after applying a perfect coat of wax and polishing her up to a brilliant shine, Dean and Cas stood back to admire their work.

“She’s ready to hunt again,” Dean proclaimed. “Thanks for the help, Cas.”

“Thank you for showing me an important skill,” Cas replied, turning his attention from the car to Dean.

Dean opened his mouth to say something that he had chosen to pre-regret for his own convenience when Sam walked up the steps into the garage and spared him.

“Hey guys, I think I found us a case. I hope you’re up for a drive.”

Dean gave Cas a satisfied smirk, and Cas replied to Sam, “Most definitely.”

Sam glanced between the sparkling car and the grease-stained and soggy pair of them. “Yeah, but it’s not so urgent that it can’t wait for you both to put on something less grimy and drippy. Meet you in the library in twenty?”

“Sure, Sammy,” Dean replied, taking a last look at Baby before heading to his room to find some dry clothes.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean slipped off the waterlogged sneakers he only wore when washing the car, and then stripped out of his grungy clothes and tossed them over the back of his chair to dry out. He wasn’t about to stuff them in his laundry basket in that state to molder for however long they’d be gone on whatever hunt Sam had dredged up for them.

He picked out a pair of jeans and a soft henley to wear after his shower and slid into his robe. Sure, he felt a bit like he was procrastinating, but while he had his drawers open, he also pulled out enough clothes for a week and shoved them in his duffel. He might be putting off going to shower, hoping to avoid an awkward semi-clothed encounter with Cas, but he figured he was also saving time by being ready to leave the second Sam laid out the details of their new case. He was just being practical. Mostly.

The first time he’d unintentionally walked in on Cas in the shower room, Cas had fortunately finished showering. Unfortunately, Cas was standing by the sink, wearing only a pair of jeans, leaning in close to the steamy mirror, shaving. If Dean could’ve escaped unnoticed, he would have, but of course Cas had spotted him, turning to him with a smiling _hello Dean_ , before returning to his task. He’d finished quickly, at least, while Dean puttered around pretending to tidy up the bathroom. When Cas finally left, Dean slipped into the shower to carefully commit the lines of Cas’s naked back and shoulders to memory under the scalding spray.

Despite his meticulous attempts to avoid duplicating that experience, Cas had wandered into the shower room on several occasions while Dean had been enjoying reliving that first memory with any number of variants that resulted in entirely different-- and far happier-- endings. He was worried he was gonna develop a permanent impression of his upper teeth on his lower lip from biting back the mortifying sounds he’d otherwise have made, just knowing that Cas was naked and soapy on the other side of the thin dividing wall between the stalls. Each time he’d dried off as fast as humanly possible and fled to his room before Cas could finish. Dean had no idea what he’d do if he was confronted with the reality of wet, naked Cas when the version supplied by his imagination was nearly enough to kill him.

Dean stood by the bed and stared at his fully packed bag, knowing he was pushing Sam’s time limit. He snatched up his clothes and his most comfortable pair of boots before dashing off to the shower room with five minutes to spare, which he could probably push to ten without pissing off his brother for taking so long. Hey, if it was gonna be his last chance for a fully private shower for the foreseeable future, he was gonna take full advantage. He let himself sink into his shower time fantasies as he raced through the halls, and burst into the shower room only to come face to face with Cas, standing there shirtless and startled by his abrupt entry with his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his still soaking wet jeans, about to push them down over his all-too-exposed hips. They blinked at each other for a long, awkward moment.

“Uh, sorry,” Dean started, trying to appear casual as he walked over to the bench and set his clean clothes down. He busied himself looking at the opposite wall while picking up a towel. “I figured you’d be done by now,” he said, cringing at his own admission.

Cas huffed out a laugh. “I thought the same, actually.”

Dean risked a glance over at him, keeping his gaze firmly at head height and not allowing himself to peek any lower. Cas was still frozen in place, looking a bit deer-in-the-headlights as well. “That worked out great, since we’re both here now.”

Cas nodded at him and reached down to pick up his towel, wrapping it around his waist and then attempting to wriggle out of his pants off beneath it. “We can’t leave Sam waiting much longer.”

Dean gave a sharp nod, turning his back on Cas as quickly as possible, heading into one of the stalls and pulling the curtain shut before he’d have to face any sort of wardrobe malfunction. He removed his robe and then reached out through the smallest possible gap in the curtain without looking to hang it and his towel on the hook just outside the stall. Cas hastily slid the curtain shut in the next stall over as Dean suffered in silence through the icy burst of water hitting his chest before the spray began to warm up. It helped keep his mind off what was going on just on the other side of the wall.

Dean rushed through the fastest shower he’d taken in a while, hoping to get his clothes on and get the hell outta there before Cas was even finished, but apparently once again Cas had the same goal. They were really gonna have to start communicating this shit, but as soon as he’d had the thought, he imagined how that conversation would go and shuddered. _You take your time, I just need to rinse off and I’ll tell Sam you’ll be done soon_ . And then Cas would say, _Oh no, I insist, Dean. You enjoy relaxing under the warm water, since you’ll probably be driving the rest of the day._ And round and round it would go, killing even more time that they didn’t really have.

The only way he could think to convince Cas to let him escape his torment was to confess his feelings, and that would take their awkward situation and load it on to a rocket bound for mortification. He wasn’t about to do that to Cas, and risk alienating him permanently, marooning himself on the lonely and desolate Planet Ignominy.

He allowed himself twelve whole seconds to take in the glory of wet Cas wearing nothing more than that damp towel slung low around his waist, water droplets rolling slowly over his neck and shoulders from his dripping and roughly towel dried hair before his brain clicked back into gear.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice pitched slightly higher than he was happy with as he scooped up his clean clothes. “You know what? I was packing and I think I accidentally packed the clean underwear I meant to bring with.” He nearly dropped his boots cringing at how idiotic he sounded, but pressed on. “I’m just gonna… go, and I’ll tell Sammy you’re on the way.” He didn’t even glance back at Cas as he fled.

Cas stood there dripping and blinking at Dean’s retreating back as the shower room door clicked shut behind him. “Okay, Dean,” he said into the steamy air, but Dean was already long gone.

He’d done it again, he thought to himself with a frustrated sigh as he unwound the towel and got dressed.

Dean had been acting progressively more incomprehensibly since he’d come to live at the bunker full time. Cas had tried everything he knew how to do to set Dean at ease, but everything he’d tried only seemed to make Dean more uncomfortable. He’d suggested watching movies he knew Dean enjoyed, had learned about as many of Dean’s interests as possible-- from baking pie to reading up on all the television shows Dean claimed not to like but then spent hours watching-- and had gone above and beyond to prove that he could be just as useful as Sam or Dean on a hunt. He finally gave up trying to figure out how to navigate around Dean and his inexplicable reactions and just tried to be as honest and kind and caring toward Dean as he knew how to be.

Every time Dean became flustered or ran away, Cas’s heart broke just a little bit more. Short of explaining to Dean why he’d resorted to these measures, he was at a total loss. And explaining the _why_ would inevitably lead to things that Cas didn’t ever care to think about. He wasn’t about to risk their entire friendship over the inconvenient feelings he longed to express to Dean now that he was too human to simply shut those feelings off.

Cas sighed and stood up from tying his boots, and headed out to the library. As he expected, Dean was already there, and he and Sam were just waiting for him. Sam gave him a curious look, which he believed may have been mild concern, or at the very least curiosity, while Dean sat awkwardly trying not to look at either of them. Cas understood, Dean hadn’t said anything to Sam, but it was clear to Sam that Dean was uncomfortable about something. Rather than try to explain, or risk accidentally making the situation worse, Cas sat down beside Dean and waited for Sam to begin his presentation.

Sam took a sip of water and set his glass down, waiting to see if either of them had anything to say before he got started, but when nothing was forthcoming he cleared his throat and dove in.

“There’s been some weird shit happening in this little town up in Maine,” he said, pushing his laptop across the table so they could see the front page of the town’s local paper. He didn’t even bother explaining, allowing Dean and Cas to read over the first few headlines for themselves.

“Man confesses to string of local burglaries?” Dean read out. “Yeah, that sounds like case closed already.”

“Keep reading,” Sam said, sitting back in his chair and taking another sip of water.

“Three local teens apologize for acts of vandalism? Okay, that sounds made up.”

Sam shrugged. “They offered to clean and repaint mailboxes all over town. No charges were filed.”

“They have an article that lists everyone in town who suddenly chose to publicly declare their sexual identities?” Cas asked, shooting Sam a completely baffled expression. “I don’t understand.”

Dean sat there frozen, scrolling down the page as the long list of suddenly out and proud residents zipped past in a special rainbow colored infographic, as he endured the horrifying vision of marching down main street with a huge sign proclaiming _I’m Dean Winchester and I’m bisexual_. Sam saved him from having to dwell on it too long.

“Yeah, it seems the whole town’s suffering a case of terminal honesty. It started a few weeks ago when some guy dug up his wife’s body from under his tomato patch, loaded her bones into the back of his truck and drove himself to the sheriff’s office. He’d told people for the last thirty years that she’d left him, and he just couldn’t live with the guilt anymore, I guess.”

“So, what, people can’t live with their dirty laundry all of a sudden?” Dean asked, enduring a glare from both Sam and Cas.

“It seems more like people are being compelled to tell the truth,” Cas replied. “The local librarian admitted publicly that she loves romance novels, and wished more people would join her book club. Several people have sold their businesses after running them successfully for decades, declaring that they hated their lives and wanted to do something more fulfilling. There’ve also been twenty petitions for divorces in the last three weeks, in a town that’s barely seen that many over the last decade. There’ve been nearly that many applications for marriage licenses, as well.”

“We already ganked Veritas, so what could get a whole town to decide that honesty was the best policy like this?”

Sam shrugged. “Witchcraft?”

“That would be an incredibly powerful spell to maintain over such a vast area,” Cas argued. “It would require an entire coven, and even then I don’t know that it’s possible to sustain such a spell for this long,” he added, glancing down the list of headlines Sam had compiled spanning the last few weeks. “When did it even begin?”

“First report I could find for sure was about three weeks ago. A man dinged a car door with a shopping cart at the grocery store, then stood there for forty five minutes waiting for the owner of the car to finish shopping so he could pay for the damage.”

Dean grunted. “He coulda left a note.”

Sam shook his head. “There wasn’t even any noticeable damage. He just felt like he needed to be honest and confess.”

“And everyone in town seems to be affected?” Cas asked.

“Enough of them that everyone just seems to expect that nobody lies about anything anymore, at least,” Sam confirmed. “And whatever it is seems to be escalating from randomly feeling compelled to apologize for parking lot dings to filing for divorce and confessing to felonies.”

“Maybe it’s something in the water,” Dean replied, but Sam shook his head.

“The science department at a college a few towns over already checked the water at the mayor’s request, and they didn’t find any mind-altering substances. Just standard tap water.”

“So it’s probably something from the spooky side of the street,” Dean confirmed, standing up. “It’s a two day drive to Maine, so if we’re gonna go, we should get on the road.”

Sam hesitated for a moment and frowned. “So, uh, you think it’s worth looking into?”

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Whatever it is, it seems to be getting worse. So far, nobody’s killed anyone else. At least not recently. And they seem to be handling their shit pretty well, but how long you think it’ll be before someone’s just a little too honest and we have people blowing their brains out?”

Sam nodded slowly. “And what if it affects us, too?”

“I already know your secret hair care routine, Sammy,” Dean said tersely, doing his best to keep his personal fears about this particular case to himself. “If we’re affected, we’ll deal with it. Drive outta the bubble of weird, stay away from each other, whatever it takes. Because I do _not_ need to know about your secret fantasy life.”

“I don’t need to know about yours, either,” Sam muttered, and then sighed, slapping his laptop shut and sliding it off the table into his lap. He looked over at Cas. “You good with this one, too? You’ve already been through a lot lately, and this one might be hard to deal with.”

Cas was surprised that Sam would even ask such a thing. Before answering, he glanced up at Dean and noticed the same tension that typically preceded Dean’s increasingly frequent sudden departures. He wasn’t sure whether Dean was hoping he’d stay behind or join them, but Cas had never backed away from a situation where people may be in danger. He’d also been as honest with Dean as it was possible to be, short of declaring his deeper unrequited feelings. If it was a matter of exposure to whatever was forcing the townspeople to speak their truths, it would likely take at least several days before he’d feel compelled to confess that particular truth. He could always steal a car and leave town if he fell under the effects of whatever they were hunting before it came to that. That settled it.

“If you and Dean are willing to take that risk, then so am I.”

“Okay, then,” Sam replied, standing up. “I already talked this one over with Jack and he’s getting packed right now. I just need to throw a few things in a bag and we can leave.”

“So the two of you were gonna go anyway, even if me and Cas didn’t,” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “Something weird is definitely going on there. I figured of everyone, Jack has the fewest deep, dark personal secrets. He’s got the least to risk here, at least among the four of us, and it seemed like a good case to give him some field experience without a lot of physical danger.”

Dean just grunted at that. “Sure, whatever. Go pack.”

“With all four of us working it, there’s a chance we’ll find whatever’s responsible before it has a chance to get to us,” Sam replied as he walked away.

Cas nodded as Sam left the room, and then turned to where Dean had been standing a moment before, but Dean was already gone. He slowly stood up and walked back to his room, wondering if it was impolite to hope that Dean would potentially be even a little bit affected by the honesty spell. Then maybe he could at least begin to understand what seemed to be bothering him lately.

Dean and Jack were waiting in the garage when Cas arrived with his bag a few minutes later. He set his bag in the trunk beside Dean’s and the two of them stood there awkwardly waiting for Sam, while Jack sat contentedly in the back seat. Dean was more visibly nervous than usual, restlessly fidgeting in the few feet of space between the driver’s side door and the garage wall, and eventually broke the silence.

“You really sure you’re good with this? I mean, you got billions of years worth of secrets up there, right? Blurting out you used to be an angel and watched all of human history from your perch on some cloud will probably still get you committed, even in a town where everyone’s compelled to tell the truth.”

Cas smiled and shook his head. “Blurting out that we’re monster hunters who suspect their entire town might be enchanted with a magical spell that compels them to speak their truths against their will doesn’t sound much better.” He paused for a moment, and then grinned at Dean. “Please don’t regale random citizens with tales of Hell.”

Dean sputtered out a laugh. “Yeah, if I start telling anyone how I Dr. Phil’ed God and his sister, just punch me in the face or something.”

They were both laughing over all the things they should absolutely not allow the other to say in mixed company-- everything from making deals with Death to visiting alternate universes-- when Sam wandered into the garage looking utterly baffled by the drastic change in their mood. By the time he’d dropped his own bag in the trunk and slammed it shut, he was both laughing and coming up with even more truths that they absolutely shouldn’t allow to slip out.

“Please don’t tell anyone you killed Hitler,” Sam offered, practically in tears as they sped out of Lebanon. “Or that you punched a cupid.”

“Yeah, well, they both deserved it,” Dean grumbled.

Jack caught on to the humor of the conversation and offered a few of his own. “Don’t let me tell people that Lucifer is my father, or that I used to be able to levitate pencils.”

“I swear I won’t tell anyone you’re about to celebrate your second birthday,” Cas added.

Their lighter mood lasted through the rest of the day’s drive, when Dean pulled off the highway somewhere in western Ohio. They crashed hard after more than twelve hours on the road with only a couple stops for gas and food.

The second day’s drive was a bit more subdued. They were closing in on their destination and girding themselves against the unknown threat that had settled over the little town. Towards the evening, as they crossed through a narrow spit of New Hampshire into Maine, they began to debate where to look for a motel.

All day as he drove, Dean had been plagued by a hundred different imaginary scenarios in which he professed his love for Cas, only for Cas to reply in increasingly painful ways. At first, Imaginary Cas would simply be confused, or dismissive, or even intrigued but politely distant with him. As the day wore on, Imaginary Cas’s reactions progressed from regret to concern to distress, and finally outright disgust. Dean had reached the point where he felt he’d effectively buried any impulse he might ever have to say those damning words aloud somewhere on the Massachusetts Turnpike, honesty curse or no. His frequent glances into the back seat, only to see Cas also growing increasingly distracted and tense the closer they got to their destination, worked as both an affirmation that he could keep his mouth shut through anything, and weirdly a comfort that he wasn’t alone with his troubling thoughts.

Meanwhile, in the back seat Cas was having a nearly identical dilemma to Dean’s. He had a hell of a lot more at stake, though. If he were to blurt out something untoward, depending on how poorly Dean received it, the result could range from a long period of intense awkwardness where neither of them would want to see one another, to the extreme case where Dean would feel so uncomfortable that he would ask Cas to leave the bunker permanently. It had been an increasingly terrifying thought, and the more he considered it the more it seemed like a genuine possibility.

Dean had happily welcomed him into the bunker when he fell and became human, but there was something he knew he’d been missing, something that had been upsetting Dean about his presence, and Cas didn’t want to do anything to disrupt the tenuous balance they’d maintained over the last few months. The bunker was his home now, and the Winchesters were his family. He wouldn’t do anything to put that at risk.

Sam poked at his phone, looking up motels in the area, and tried to insist that they find a place on the outskirts of town. “We don’t have to stay at ground zero, but it seems pointless not to at least be inside the perimeter of the affected area.”

“You can be the guinea pig, then,” Dean argued. “Me and Cas and Jack can stay outside the fallout zone. We don’t even know that honesty is the only side effect of whatever’s going on there. If you wanna risk exposure to magical cooties, you go right ahead.”

Sam gave him the look that comment deserved, and Dean remained intently focused on traffic around Portsmouth circle, making sure none of the other crazies on the road tried to make a last minute break into his lane as he steered the Impala toward their exit.

“You’re still gonna have to go into town to figure out what the hell’s going on there. It’s not like we’re all not gonna be exposed anyway. We don’t even know if it’s contagious, or whatever.”

That gave Dean an idea to at least derail the motel conversation for a minute. “Contagious, huh? Maybe we should go in as CDC and work it like an outbreak.”

Sam shrugged and conceded the point. “The real CDC probably wouldn’t be interested since they already ruled out a traditional poison or infection, but we could say we’re researching the unusual phenomenon and see if that stirs anything up. Probably less confrontational than going into a town as FBI when people are already bending over backwards to confess their sins, or whatever.”

Cas shifted in the back seat, more interested in this line of conversation as a potential distraction from his dark thoughts. “Do we even know if anyone from outside the town has been affected? Or if the effect wears off if someone leaves town? It would not only be a plausible line of research, but it might also help us uncover the source of the curse.”

Sam nodded, pulling out his little notepad and beginning a bullet-pointed list. “Good questions. Also, if anyone in town hasn’t shown any signs of infection, it might help us narrow down the disease vector.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, you won’t have any trouble passing as CDC, you nerd.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but kept writing. “I think it’s also smart to avoid accidentally exposing ourselves more than necessary.”

“Like by not sleeping inside the cursed town?” Dean replied, side-eyeing Sam with a glare before returning his focus to the road.

“No,” Sam huffed, clipping his pen to his notebook. “Like not eating the food or drinking the water. It could be faerie magic, after all. We can stop at a grocery store a few towns over and stock up, just in case.”

“Great. We’re gonna be stuck eating rabbit food again, aren’t we?”

“You can still have pie, for all I know. I doubt it’s leviathans fucking with the corn syrup again,” Sam replied.

“Okay,” Dean replied, shifting uneasily. “But if it’s leprechauns or whatever, I’ll probably still be able to see ‘em, at least.”

To Dean’s surprise, Sam didn’t poke fun at him. He even seemed to consider it a potential asset. “Good. So be sure to point out anyone or anything suspicious to one of us, and if we can’t see ‘em, we’ll know they’re probably involved in this.”

“I’m unsure if I’m still able to see the true faces of the fae,” Cas replied. “I can still see angels, and if I know to look for it, I can spot demons. I haven’t had the occasion to observe the fae since I fell. They’re typically highly secretive and avoid the mortal plane.”

Sam frowned, turning in his seat to look back at Cas. “I guess same rule goes for you as it does for Dean, then, at least until we know for sure.”

“I’ve never seen the fae, as far as I know,” Jack replied, and then frowned. “I’m not sure if I ever could before...”

Cas leaned over and patted the back of Jack’s hand reassuringly. “We’re not even certain they’re behind this, but if you do see anything out of the ordinary, it’s always the best policy to let one of us know, as unobtrusively as possible.”

“And we’ll just keep hoping it’s not the little people,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Those guys are douchebags.”

A wicked smile pushed at the corners of Sam’s mouth, and without even turning to look at Dean he calmly asked, “Even if the alternative is witches?”

Dean grumbled incoherently and pointedly focused on the road in front of him.


	3. Chapter 3

In the end, Sam’s wish to stay on the outskirts of town won out, for several reasons. First off, there wasn’t a motel around for at least fifty miles in any direction. Most of the people who vacationed in that part of the state either owned their own lakefront property, or else stayed at one of the numerous campgrounds that littered the region. And the vast majority of them had been closed up for the season.

It had been hard enough finding _anywhere_ to stay. Dean complained about false advertising based on the bold proclamation of _Vacationland_ printed across every license plate in the state, and only through Sam’s relentless calling and polite begging did they find someone willing to rent them a small cabin for the week. Dean had argued that it would’ve been easier to just find a remote cabin to squat in for however long it took them to find the bad thing and gank it. Sam had countered that it might not be camping season, but it was still deer hunting season, and it was probably a good idea not to be found uninvited at someone’s hunting cabin either.

“We have guns, too,” Dean had countered, only to be met by another long-suffering glare from Sam.

“I don’t think you want to feel compelled into confessing to the murder of innocent hunters, Dean,” Cas replied, breaking the tension and earning grumbling agreement from Dean.

Regardless, they ended up at a summer campground at a nearby lake, in a small cabin that wasn’t particularly well insulated against the chilly October nights. There was a potbelly stove in the combined kitchen and living space that kept even the two tiny bedrooms warm enough, but the entire cabin had a feeling of general disuse. The owner informed them that the typical vacation season only lasted through the summer, with just a few stragglers willing to brave the chilly fall temperatures to watch the leaves change the last week of September, so the cabins weren’t really outfitted for winter living.

Sam staked his claim on the smaller of the two rooms, with one double bed inside, leaving the other room for the rest of them to fight over who got which of the two available beds-- a queen and a single. The only problem was that the single was mounted to the wall above the queen, bunk bed style. Neither Dean nor Cas was particularly eager to perch up there on the tiny mattress, and neither of them were particularly eager to share the larger bed with Jack, either. Meanwhile, Jack was absolutely delighted at the thought of sleeping in the top bunk, and claimed it without hesitation by leaping onto the lower mattress and scrambling up before Dean or Cas had a chance to set their bags down.

“Well, this is gonna be fucking fun,” Dean muttered.

From above the dividing wall between the bedrooms, which Dean only just now realized didn’t go all the way to the high peaked ceiling, Sam called back, “It was either this or all four of us can sleep in the car. That option is still available if you’re gonna complain.”

Dean sighed and muttered, “Yeah, yeah, we’ve had worse. At least the plumbing works.” He flipped on the kitchen tap, and was relieved when cool, clean water sprayed into the sink. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Sam poked his head out of his room and pointed at a small door on the opposite wall. Dean gave him a dubious look, but went to check it out. Toilet, sink, mirror, and a clawfoot bathtub…

“Where the fuck’s the shower?”

Dean opened the door across the hall from the bathroom to find shelves stocked with extra pillows, blankets, and towels, as well as a selection of board games and local tourist guidebooks, but definitely no shower. He shut the door and frowned at Sam, who stood in the doorway to his room grinning. He hooked a finger over his shoulder, pointing toward the back wall of the cabin.

“It’s out back.”

Dean puzzled through that for a minute, then cast a helpless look at Cas who was now observing this exchange intently. He turned on his heel, threw open the front door and followed the path as best he could in the dark to a little fenced-in addition off the back of the cabin. The privacy fence surrounding the shower enclosure was tall enough to hide even Sam out there, and the wooden plank flooring looked sturdy and clean enough he wouldn’t object to going barefoot, but he was fully dressed and already starting to shiver. He didn’t even want to think about being outside, naked, soaking wet. It was supposed to get down into the thirties overnight. That was not outdoor showering weather. He glared at the shower so he’d be sure it knew how disappointed he was in it, and then slammed the gate shut and stomped back inside. The stomping was partly to warm himself up, and partly to demonstrate that disappointment as forcefully as possible.

“You can shower out there. I’m gonna hope whatever this thing we’re hunting isn’t fucking slimy, and doesn’t get any of it’s goo on me,” Dean replied. “I don’t need to join the polar bear club this week.”

Sam laughed, but backed into his room and shut his door, calling out a good night as he went. “You can always take a bath.”

Dean grumbled about stewing himself in a broth of dirt and monster guts and pulled a beer out of the fridge. When he noticed Cas still standing there by the sink, he offered one to him as well. Cas accepted, and the two of them drifted over to the sofa closest to the warm stove. Dean sat down and stretched out his legs, leaning his head back against the impressively comfortable cushions. The two of them drank in silence for a few minutes before Cas quietly agreed with him.

“It wouldn’t have bothered me when I was an angel, but as a human I’ve grown accustomed to a certain level of comfort. The idea of being wet in these temperatures isn’t pleasant.”

“Not just unpleasant,” Dean argued. “That shit’s not healthy.”

Cas hummed and took another sip of his beer. “Scandinavians regularly swim in weather much colder than this. They claim it has health benefits.”

“Well, yeah, if you go right from the water into a sauna to warm up afterward. We ain’t got a sauna here. All we got is a potbelly stove and a tea kettle. That’s not gonna do the trick.”

Cas conceded his point. They sat in comfortable silence for another minute before Dean settled down a little deeper into the cushions and shut his eyes.

“If the couch was a couple feet longer, I’d just sleep out here.”

“It is comfortable,” Cas agreed, “but it’s barely more than a loveseat. None of us are small enough to sleep comfortably on it.”

“Shame,” Dean replied, and because his eyes were closed he missed Cas’s frown.

Yes, it would be awkward to have to share a bed with Dean, but Cas was also strangely and secretly looking forward to it. They’d been getting two rooms at motels since everyone sleeps now. Cas and Jack typically took one room, while Sam and Dean took the other out of a lifetime of habit. It had been a very long time since he’d had the occasion to watch over Dean while he slept. Even though he’d need to sleep himself now, there was something comforting and appealing to the part of him that would always feel protective of Dean to know that he’d be right there, close enough to keep him safe through the night.

Cas finished his drink and left the bottle on the kitchen counter. He’d seen the recycling bin outside at the other side of the parking area, but he wasn’t about to go bumbling around out in the dark to dispose of a single bottle. “I think Jack’s already gone to bed.”

“Yeah, I’m right behind him,” Dean replied, standing up and setting his empty bottle next to Cas’s. “Just gonna change outta this,” he said, picking at collar of his heavy flannel shirt, “brush my teeth and whatever.”

Neither of them commented on their imminent sleeping situation again, but Cas nodded as Dean grabbed his bag and went into the small bathroom. He took the time to change his own clothes in the living room and dig out his toothbrush. He listened to the water running for several minutes before stashing his duffel in the bedroom and evaluating the bed.

The woman who ran the campground had set everything up for them, and he turned down the fresh sheets that were far nicer than the stiff white linens he was used to seeing at motels. These were nearly as soft as the sheets on his bed back at the bunker that he’d picked out for himself, light blue, and embroidered along the hem with a delicate pattern of flowering vines. Rather than lay claim to one side of the bed, he hesitated; maybe out of consideration for Dean’s preferences since Dean had had a lifetime of sleeping to even establish a preference, but also just a bit out of the nervous unease that had left the single beer he’d drunk fizzing uncomfortably in his belly.

When Dean emerged wearing sweats and a comfy t-shirt, they exchanged a tense nod in the living room. Dean lingered for a moment as if he were on the verge of saying something, but Cas didn’t give him a chance. He held up his toothbrush and toothpaste with an apologetic little smile and Dean sighed and nodded at the excuse to not have to have that awkward conversation. Cas shut himself into the bathroom and left Dean to get settled in bed.

He turned on the tap and watched the water run for a moment, and then leaned his hands on the sink to examine his tired face in the mirror. Two long days in the car exhausted him now that he was human, and he wasn’t at all sure he’d be able to get a restful night’s sleep sharing a bed with Dean. It didn’t bode well for his ability to focus during this case, when so much of his concentration would necessarily be directed into making sure he wasn’t succumbing to the honesty curse they’d come here to break.

Cas sighed and wet his toothbrush, and then shut off the tap. He carefully went about brushing his teeth, trying to focus on good oral hygiene and not on climbing into bed with Dean. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped Dean had already laid down and slid across the wide bed to the wall, or that Dean was waiting for him to take that spot so he wouldn’t be blocked in bed by Cas’s body. That led to another unfortunate series of thoughts of having to climb over Dean to get into bed, and then potentially worse, Dean having to climb over him to get out in the morning. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to face any of those scenarios, but there was only so long he could brush his teeth for before it would begin to feel like cowardice instead of responsible dental care. He spat, then rinsed his mouth and face with water and dried off, hanging the hand towel over the rack beside the rumpled towel Dean must have used.

He shut off the light in the bathroom but left one lamp on in the living room for convenience and safety. They were in unknown waters here, both in the unfamiliar layout of the room if anyone woke up during the night, but also in regard to the creature or creatures they’d come here to hunt. It wouldn’t do to be surprised during the night, even though the chances they’d already been recognized just from a drive through town were slim to none. It never hurt to take extra precautions, and to a newly minted human, light was always a precaution worth taking.

Cas stepped into the bedroom and shut the door, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness-- the sliver of light shining over the top of the wall between the bedroom and living room now his only illumination-- until he could make out Dean’s form under the blankets. He seemed to be trying to take up as little space in the bed as possible, scrunched all the way over and facing the wall, leaving plenty of space for Cas to climb in with as little awkwardness as possible. Cas let out the breath he’d been holding since he’d shut the door and took the three steps to the edge of the bed.

He lifted the sheets carefully to disturb Dean as little as possible and slid under them. It was inevitable that he’d jostle the mattress getting settled, but he concentrated on being as unobtrusive as he could. He tried to get comfortable without tossing and turning the way he typically did at home on the memory foam mattress Dean had insisted would remember him, now hyperaware of Dean’s presence so close beside him. Cas finally settled on his side, his back to Dean, and pulled the blankets up over his shoulder. The blankets stretched taut a foot and a half above the mattress across the expansive gap between their respective shoulders, each of them occupying one extreme edge of the bed.

Dean sighed behind him as cool air rushed into the newly created blanket cavern between them. He whispered so as not to wake Jack. “Dude, I don’t think the blanket’s big enough for both of us.”

Cas rolled onto his back and turned his head to stare at the back of Dean’s. The blanket sagged at the release of tension, reducing the draft considerably.

“It’s big enough if we’re both willing to shift more toward the center of the mattress.”

Dean rolled over enough to peer at Cas over his shoulder. It was too dark for Cas to make out whether he was upset by this revelation or not, but he was too tired and too cold to care. After a minute or two of staring at each other in the dark, Dean relented, rolling over to face Cas and bringing a good foot of blanket with him.

“Fine, okay? You’re right. This is just weird as fuck. Jack’s asleep above us, and we’re practically fucking cuddling.”

Cas frowned, but rolled over to face Dean, mostly for the sake of practicality now that it was beginning to warm up beneath the covers. “We aren’t even touching, let alone _cuddling,_  Dean. We’re just sleeping. And hopefully soon. I’m tired and uneasy about this hunt, and I don’t want my attention compromised by sleep deprivation on top of everything else.”

Dean considered that for a moment, and Cas saw him nod. “Yeah, sure. You’re right. I’m just being dumb.”

“You’re not being dumb, Dean. This is a highly unusual circumstance, I agree. But I have missed watching over you, and even though I need sleep myself now, I find it comforting to know you’re right there, and safe. Is that dumb?”

Dean surprised him by reaching out and patting him reassuringly on the shoulder before withdrawing his hand beneath the blankets again. “Nah, Cas. Not dumb at all.”

Dean yawned and finally seemed to relax. Cas wondered if Dean took comfort from his presence as well, but this was definitely not the right time to ask. Instead he yawned himself, and then wished Dean good night.

“Night, Cas.”

He lay awake listening to Dean’s breathing evening out as he fell asleep, and then finally succumbed himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean woke up slowly for once, feeling warm and heavy and satisfied like he’d actually gotten a decent night’s rest. His right arm had gone all pins and needles during the night, and he blinked his eyes open to see the cause of all of this-- from the warmth and heaviness to the tingling numbness in his arm-- practically draped over him. Cas was still asleep, his head on Dean’s shoulder and one arm flung across Dean’s chest. _So much for not cuddling_ , Dean thought as he lay there wondering what the hell he should do.

It’s not that he objected to their current situation in theory, but there were extenuating circumstances to consider. First off, Jack could wake up and see them like this at any moment, not to mention Sam. Sam would never let them live this down if he walked in and saw this cozy tableau. And then there was the fact that Cas was clearly still asleep, and therefore not consciously choosing to get all snuggly with him, much as he might like to imagine some alternate universe where Cas _would_ choose to get all snuggly with him.

Dean carefully considered his options, while also savoring what might be his one and only opportunity to wake up like this. It’s not like he had a way to escape the bed without waking Cas up, between being effectively pinned beneath Cas and practically fenced in by the bed frame at his head and feet, the wall at his back, and Cas blocking his only escape route. Even if he could slip out of his grasp without waking him, he’d still have to climb over Cas to get out of bed. There was no practical solution to this dilemma other than to feign sleep until Cas woke up. Nobody said he had to feign sleep with his eyes closed, so with no one to witness him, he watched over Cas as he slept.

It wasn’t long before Cas began to stir, and Dean was torn between watching him slowly wake up and slamming his eyes shut to spare Cas the awkwardness. At least that’s what he tried to tell the part of his brain that insisted he was only trying to spare _himself_ that awkwardness since he was the fully conscious one in this scenario. At least Cas had the excuse that he’d slept through the entire ordeal.

In the end, Dean just couldn’t bring himself to lie about how not-upset he was about the unintentional cuddling. He kept his eyes open and smiled fondly as Cas scrunched his face up and tried to burrow down into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean had girded himself against several possible outcomes for when Cas realized he was snuffling against Dean and not into an inanimate pillow. Worst-case scenario, Cas would be mortified and upset with himself, and Dean was ready with assurances that he was fine, no harm done. More than fine, in fact, but he’d wait to see Cas’s reaction before deciding if that was something he’d share with Cas.

After a tense minute or two, when Cas still hadn’t opened his eyes, Dean’s patience finally broke. He very gently lifted his free arm and draped it around Cas’s waist. He figured it was only fair. If Cas could koala hug him in his sleep then he’d at least earned that much in return. Dean sensed the change in Cas instantly, just before he very slowly turned his head and lifted his eyes from Dean’s shoulder, like a character in a horror movie about to discover the monster is right behind them. He tried to maintain a relaxed smile on his face, but Dean feared that his own anxiety might be ruining the comfortable serenity he was hoping to project. Rather than upset or embarrassment, Cas blinked up at him in sleepy confusion.

“Dean? Am I still sleeping?”

Dean repressed a laugh and stopped worrying about what his face was doing. “Dude, you’re talking to me. You don’t talk in your sleep, do you?”

Cas looked even more confused for a moment, glancing around the room briefly while Dean grinned at the pillow crease imprints on Cas’s cheek left by the folds of his t-shirt, and the way his hair stood up on one side. He returned his bleary gaze to Dean. “I’m not sure. I’ve never watched myself sleep before.”

Dean snorted at that. “You’re awake, Cas. We’re in Maine, hunting for something that’s making all the locals pitch the skeletons in their closets out onto their front yards for the whole world to see.”

Cas frowned at him. “That makes a rather disturbing mental image first thing in the morning.”

“Do you want me to rephrase that, or do you believe you’re awake now?”

Cas sighed and pulled himself away from Dean. “No need. I believe you. I apologize for infringing on your personal space. I didn’t mean to make this any more uncomfortable for you than necessary.”

He tried to roll away, but Dean still had his hand around Cas’s back and he held him in place until Cas gave him his full-- if slightly panicked now that he was waking up-- attention.

“I’m not uncomfortable at all, Cas. You said last night you liked knowing I was safe, but I like the same thing, I guess. Knowing you’re safe. That was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time, so I’m definitely not uncomfortable, okay?”

Cas studied him for a moment or two and then nodded, finally accepting the truth of Dean’s words. “That’s a relief, actually. Thank you for telling me, Dean.”

Dean smiled at that, feeling relieved himself, but saving the rest of this conversation for some point when they didn’t have an honesty monster to hunt. The last thing he needed was to let himself get too comfortable with spilling truths all over the place. He slowly released his hold on Cas and steered them to safer waters.

“So sunshine, you want some breakfast? We got a busy day of hunting something and not eating or drinking anything while we’re in town. We should fortify.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Cas replied, and the two of them quietly climbed out of bed, only to discover the top bunk was already empty.

Dean experienced a moment of dread at the thought that Jack may have seen them sleep cuddling, but he let it go. He’d find out soon enough. If Jack had mentioned anything to Sam, then Sam wouldn’t be able to resist the opportunity to make a few jokes at his expense. Even if Sam brought his A game with the teasing, Dean decided he’d slept so well it would be worth putting up with it for a few minutes. It would probably rub Sam the wrong way if, for once, Dean just rolled with it.

Unless Jack had suddenly taken up morning coffee duty, it was evident that Sam was awake, too, since a nearly-full pot of coffee sat waiting for them on the counter of the little kitchen nook. Dean headed over and poured a mug, then turned and wordlessly offered it to Cas. Cas sighed contentedly and took a sip while Dean poured himself a mug. From the deserted living room, Dean assumed that Sam and Jack must be out on the cabin’s porch, and with a glance at Cas the two of them quietly made their way to the front door.

Dean paused to listen in case Sam and Jack were talking about them, but he could only make out the occasional muffled word here and there and it sounded like they were discussing the view. It seemed safe enough to intrude without inducing any sudden embarrassment, so he pushed the door open. Sam glanced up at the creak of hinges and grinned up at Dean from beneath his uncharacteristically damp hair. His grin grew wider when Cas followed him out into the chilly morning air. Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and regretted not at least putting on a pair of socks or grabbing a jacket.

“Good morning, sleepyheads,” Sam said, while Jack smiled up at them politely and scooted down the bench at the picnic table to make room for them. Dean opted to sit in one of the deck chairs instead, and Cas followed his lead. “I hear you two had a cozy night.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, taking a sip of his coffee and hoping he projected an air of calm confidence. “This place beats the hell out of that motel two nights ago.”

Sam nodded, peeling an orange into his empty oatmeal bowl. “Sure, if you like having your own human teddy bear.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, deliberately sipping his coffee and nodding. “That can be a real perk.”

Cas nodded solemnly. “The emotional and psychological benefits of comfort objects is well documented.”

Sam shot them a dubious look and went back to peeling his orange.

“So you been up long? Have any new insight into what we’re hunting?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. “I was up early, went for a run. I thought it might help to get the lay of the land, see if I met any of the locals.”

“You went for a run?” Dean glared at Sam like he’d lost his mind. Even more than he typically would over Sam’s early morning runs. “In a town where we don’t know what’s affecting people, you just went out without backup?”

Sam shrugged. “I didn’t expect any trouble, and I didn’t find any.”

Dean exchanged a disbelieving glance with Cas, who shrugged as well and went back to sipping his coffee. “What if it’s spread through the air, huh? And there you were sucking it down ten times as fast just for kicks. So do you feel like telling the truth yet?”

Sam scoffed and ate a segment of orange. “I mostly tell the truth anyway.”

“Sure, _mostly_ ,” Dean replied.

“I try to tell the truth as often as possible,” Jack added eagerly, then frowned. “Except when we’re hunting, because sometimes lying is integral to stopping monsters and protecting the public. But I don’t mind that kind of lying, when it’s necessary to save lives.” He smiled proudly at Cas, who nodded in approval of Jack’s more nuanced understanding of the morality of hunting.

Sam ate another bit of orange and then continued detailing his morning. “So anyway, I ran toward the edge of town, turned around, and ran back. It was just after sunrise, so there wasn’t anyone really up and about yet, but I think it’s fair to say that there’s a few residents I’d rather avoid talking to. The honesty thing is not doing some folks any favors.”

Dean snorted. “Like the guy who confessed to a thirty-year-old murder?”

Sam shook his head. “Like the guy who’d hammered a homemade sign into his front lawn that said _go back to Mexico_. Way to fly your flag, you know? At least all his neighbors know he’s a racist now, if they didn’t before.”

Cas frowned at that. “We’re in northern Maine. We’re about as far from Mexico as it’s possible to be in the continental United States.”

Dean reached over and patted Cas’s knee. “Geography isn’t a strong suit for most racists.”

“So,” Sam said, finishing his orange and picking up his bowl. “I ran back here and braved the outdoor shower. I had to shoo a nesting raccoon out of there, but it was brisk and refreshing, and the water’s so pure I didn’t even bother to condition,” he added, giving his now mostly dry hair a shake that would make shampoo models cry before getting up and heading back into the cabin.

Dean sat there blinking at the door as it clicked shut behind Sam, and then turned to Cas. “Well, that was more honesty than I needed from him.”

Cas gave a thoughtful nod. “At least he didn’t detail the entire shower experience for us.”

“Small favors,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes and finishing off his coffee. He stood up to go back in to make breakfast and warm up his freezing toes. “Maybe the cold water just froze his brain. We’ll sit him in front of the fire until we’re ready to go. Let him thaw out.” He cast a critical look over at Jack. “You didn’t use the freezer shower too, did you?”

Jack smiled and shook his head. “I took a bath. It was pleasantly warm. And I never condition my hair anyway. Sam bought me conditioning shampoo.”

“Of course he did,” Dean replied, and then opened the door.

Jack and Sam had already eaten their oatmeal and fruit, so Dean made eggs, bacon, and toast for himself and Cas. It was agreed that they’d stand out like sore thumbs if they wore their fed suits in such a small town, so they unanimously decided on a casual Friday sort of look, dressing more for warmth and comfort than authority. They hoped their fake CDC badges would give them all the authority they needed. Sam stocked the cooler with bottled water and sandwiches, and after a thorough briefing on all the points they needed to keep in mind to protect their cover and hopefully discover the source of the curse, they headed into town.

Jack practiced his interview technique for the entire ten minute drive, interrogating Cas in the back seat. Every minute or two, Dean glanced back at them in the rear view mirror to keep tabs on Jack’s earnest face and Cas’s rather bemused expressions. Cas did his best to answer all of Jack’s questions with complete honesty, which Sam had initially objected to.

“Witnesses are never that forthcoming, Cas. You gotta work them up to it, and then figure out how to finesse them into pointing you in the right direction.”

“Dude,” Dean said, scoffing. “The whole fucking town’s under an honesty curse. As long as we don’t blow our cover or mention magical curses, they’ll probably answer anything we ask ‘em.”

Sam thought about that for a minute and conceded. “Yeah, I guess, but _we_ can’t tell them the truth, that we’re hunting for a supernatural source for whatever’s compelling everyone to tell the truth.”

“Which is why we gotta stick together on this one,” Dean countered. “In case one of us starts slipping.”

“Constant vigilance!” Jack said a little too enthusiastically, jabbing a finger into the air, and then slowly dropping his hand to his lap. “Sorry, I watched the Harry Potter movies last week. It seemed appropriate for the situation.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, thanks Mad Eye.”

“So Dean’s on faerie spotting duty,” Sam reminded him, counting off their respective tasks on his fingers. “I’ll handle the witnesses with Jack, and Cas will keep an eye on all of us.”

“And we’ll all keep an eye on Cas,” Dean finished for him. “Yeah, we got it.”

Their first stop was the local police department. The town was so small that it only took up one small corner of the town hall building. A single police car was parked in the lot, and Dean gave it a withering look as they walked into the building.

The main room of the police division contained three desks and a walled-off cubicle with _Deirdre Riordan, Chief of Police_ painted on the door in tidy gold lettering. The only person in the entire department was a harried looking middle-aged woman wearing jeans and a red flannel buttondown engaged in a pitched battle with a photocopy machine. Sam gave them all a significant look, and then cleared his throat to get her attention. She startled, and then pulled herself together, putting on a smile.

“Hi there, can I help you gentlemen?”

“We were hoping to talk to the chief,” Sam replied, “but I might be able to give you a hand with the copy machine, if you’d like.”

The woman snorted out an indelicate laugh. “That old thing’s been here longer than I have. It only works when it feels like it, and it’s not in the mood today.” She gave the machine a little kick, and it immediately began whirring and clicking, and then started spitting out copies. “Well what do you know? You guys must be good luck.”

“No such thing as luck, ma’am,” Sam replied seriously. Dean panicked for just a second, wondering if Sam was already cracking under the honesty spell, before he went on with a flirtatious smile. “I think it was just a good kick.”

The woman laughed and then held out her hand to Sam. “Chief Riordan, at your service, then. I figure I owe you one, now. What is it you needed?”

Sam shook her hand and pulled out his badge. “We’re with the CDC, here to follow up about the water testing you ordered a few weeks ago.”

She glanced at his badge, leaning in to read his name. “I don’t know what to tell you, Agent Stark. All those tests came back perfectly normal. I don’t know what you and your team hope to find.”

Dean gave her a polite smile. “Most likely nothing, ma’am, but in cases like this, we’ve learned it’s better to be safe than sorry. With so much… unusual activity in town over the last few weeks, if there is an environmental factor at the root of it, we’d like to understand how it’s potentially affecting people.”

Chief Riordan gave Dean the once over, folding her arms and leaning back against the nearest desk. “So you boys don’t have any ulterior motives, do you?”

Dean gave Sam a quizzical look when he began fidgeting with the zipper pull on his coat, and decided it was best to do the talking himself. “How do you mean?”

“The CDC’s not working on some secret truth serum project, are they?”

“That’s not really what the CDC does, ma’am,” Sam replied with relief, letting his hands drop back to his sides and finally meeting the Chief’s eyes again. “We’re only concerned about the potential long-term health effects if there was some sort of organic process at work here. We don’t want to arouse panic, but we are concerned that this could be just a symptom of a more sinister problem.”

Chief Riordan’s eyes widened at that, and this time it was Jack who stepped in. “Please, we’re only concerned about the health and safety of your citizens.”

She slowly lowered her arms and took a deep breath, nodding as she relented. “Okay, then. If you think a rash of unapologetic truthfulness is just the tip of a bigger, badder iceberg, then I guess you’re the experts. I’ll tell you one thing, it’s made my job a hell of a lot more complicated. It was pretty sweet, at least for the first few weeks.”

“How do you mean?” Cas asked.

“Well, in the days after all this started, we had a line out the door. Folks were coming in for everything from paying off their parking tickets to confessing to thirty year old crimes.”

“Yeah, we heard about that one,” Dean replied. “Guess that kept you busy for a while.”

The chief nodded. “Yeah, but it had its down side, too. We had one guy come in to confess to public indecency. He and his buddies streaked around town the night they graduated high school. He insisted on accepting his punishment, but the statute of limitations ran out more than fifty years ago. He’s in his eighties now, and practically begged us to throw him in jail for his crime.” She shook her head. “We let him stay the night in the holding cell, and that seemed to satisfy him.”

“You said it made your job easier _at first_ ,” Cas asked. “How has that changed?”

Chief Riordan took a deep breath, and then slowly nodded. “Ayuh. After the first rush of confessions, things seemed to settle down for a week or so. The clerk’s office across the hall started to get busier for a while, with folks coming in to file for both marriage licenses and divorce decrees. It’s been a weird couple of weeks. But there hadn’t really been any crime to speak of, aside from the odd duck flagging down one of my officers to confess to jaywalking or the like.”

“So suddenly you’re the most honest town in America, and it’s looking like you’re gonna be out of a job?” Dean asked, giving her a conspiratorial little smile.

“No, sir,” she replied. “Quite the opposite, actually. At least if the last day or two was any indication. Muriel Gregson punched Old Man Gardiner in the face at the grange supper two nights ago. He told her to her face that her potato salad had too much parsley in it. She just wound up and decked him. Laid him out flat right there next to the dessert table.”

Dean’s smile widened progressively as the tale unfolded. “So honesty is definitely not always the best policy.”

The Chief sighed and looked down at her feet, defeated. “I really thought it was supposed to be, you know? It sounds like such a good idea on the surface, nobody keeping secrets, no one lying to each other, but there’s plenty of things we keep to ourselves because civilization falls apart otherwise.”

“I’ve learned that often times, it’s the little white lies that keeps things civil,” Cas replied. “There’s a time and a place for bearing the truth, but sometimes protecting people’s feelings is more important.”

Chief Riordan gave Cas a thoughtful nod and agreed. “The tricky part is taking a risk and knowing when to be truthful, even if the truth might sting a bit. I know how it goes. It’s a delicate balance.”

“It’s what makes us human, though,” Cas said.

Dean listened to their entire exchange, wondering if it might be time to put some of his buried truths out there. Well, not at that exact moment, but he thought back to waking up with Cas curled around him, and he was already looking forward to the end of the day when he could crawl back into bed with Cas again. It was definitely not the right time or place to let his mind wander that far into the future, but Cas’s words made him think he might not be alone on that particular train of thought. He cleared his throat and brought the conversation back around to their case.

“So, have you noticed whether it’s the entire town that seems to be on the truth train?”

Both Sam and Chief Riordan gave him a funny look, until Sam frowned at him, seeming to snap out of whatever reverie had come over him.

“What Agent Rogers means is does the effect seem localized to any particular area?”

The Chief thought about that for a moment, and then walked across the room, pushing her way between Dean and Sam to point to a map of the town pinned to the opposite wall. “The first few incidents were reported after a family went camping around the far side of Silver Lake, here. Day after they got back to town, we had the grocery store incident. Len Morton stood in that parking lot long enough for his ice cream to melt just to apologize for a non-existent scratch.”

Dean shot Sam a disgruntled _I told you so_ look over the fact that the cabin they were currently renting was less than fifty feet from the shore of Silver Lake. It put them in a convenient spot to keep an eye out for trouble, but it also put them right smack in the middle of the potential _disease vector_ or whatever Sam had called it. They’d spent the whole fucking night breathing in a concentrated dose of whatever honesty juice had doped the entire town. Sam gave him a contrite look, but there was nothing they could do about it right that second. Dean was about to press on to their next question when Jack chimed in with some of his practice questions from the car.

“Has anyone attempted to leave the affected area, and reported the effect wearing off?”

Chief Riordan considered that for a moment, and then slowly shook her head. “We weren’t thinking of it as _an effect_ at the time, but my sister went to visit a friend down in Delaware last weekend. I know she was lying through her teeth while she was down there. She ran into her ex and called me up to complain about having to act polite toward him for a couple hours at a party. No way in hell she felt compelled to be honest if she managed to be polite to that dick.”

She pulled out a notepad and jotted down an address and telephone number for Melody Riordan, tore off the page and handed it to Sam. “Here, you give her a call and tell her Deedee sent you, if you think talking to her will help you with your research.”

“Thank you, we appreciate it. One more thing,” Sam said. “Have there been any new folks in town lately? Anyone who arrived around the time this started, or anyone who hasn’t seemed affected by it yet?” When Chief Riordan narrowed her eyes suspiciously, Sam hurriedly went on. “We’d like to talk to anyone who seems immune or was only exposed more recently. It could help us narrow down the cause, or find a potential cure.”

She glared at him for another minute before finally replying. “Aside from the bio students from the college, I think you’re the first out of towners we’ve had since this started. It hit the week after tourist season ended, when the foliage turned.”

“Hmm,” Cas said, half to himself and half to Dean. “The change of seasons could be significant.”

Dean stared at him for a moment and then tried to make that sound sensible. “There might be some sort of chemical reaction happening from the fallen leaves. Agent Barnes is our chemical expert. There’s other tests he can run if that’s a factor.”

The chief looked relieved by that. “Well it sounds like we’re in good hands with you boys looking out for us. Let me know if there’s anything else you need. If I’m not here, I’ll be out helping my officers break up petty arguments, I suppose.”

“Or kicking the office equipment into submission,” Sam joked, and then bit his lip, looking slightly distressed that he’d let that comment slip out. He opened his mouth to laugh it off, but only crammed his foot in farther. “I, uh, like your shirt,” he said, pointing to Deedee’s red plaid flannel.

She looked down to see what she was wearing and laughed. “Can’t go wrong with LL Bean.”

Sam nodded. “I’ve got the same one. Well, except mine’s bigger.”

She laughed outright. “Well I should certainly hope so, Agent Stark.”

“Call me Sam,” he replied, handing her his fake business card. “And call me if you think of anything that might help us narrow this down.”

“I’ll do that, Sam,” she replied, smiling kindly at him. “You can call me Deedee. And you know where to find me.”

Sam gave her an awkward little wave as Dean nearly had to drag him out of there, thanking Chief Deedee as they left. Sam practically floated across the parking lot to the Impala while Dean stomped off ahead with Cas. By the time he’d started the car, Sam had finally wafted over. He’d barely gotten the door shut before Dean rounded on him.

“What the fuck was that? _I’ve got the same shirt, but mine’s bigger?_ Did you get yourself dosed with truth serum while we were in there, or is your brain still frozen from your morning run?”

“What are you talking about, Dean? I was just being polite.”

“It was kind of flirtatious,” Jack chimed in from the back seat. “But it didn’t feel uncomfortable or inappropriate to me.”

“Half the things that come out of your mouth are uncomfortable,” Dean said, turning around to give Jack an apologetic look. “You don’t sugarcoat anything. But that was the next best thing to me blurting out that I bingewatch Dr. Sexy when I’m feeling sad, or that I started buying the hot chocolate with the gross tiny dehydrated marshmallows because Cas said they’re cute. Something’s got to you, Sam.”

Sam blinked at him for a moment, but it was Cas who leaned forward over the front seat and spoke. “You don’t like the tiny marshmallows?”

“I guess they’re okay, but you love ‘em, so it’s not gonna kill me to live with a couple slimy fake marshmallows once in a while,” Dean shot back. “I should probably just spring for a bag of the real ones and make proper hot chocolate sometime.”

Cas smiled at that and sat back in his seat, contented. “That sounds nice.”

“Are you listening to yourself, Dean?” Sam asked. “Dr. Sexy? Really?”

Dean scoffed, turning a little pink and putting his attention into backing out of the parking spot. “Not like that was some big secret. I’m just saying, maybe don’t flirt with the locals while all their natural defenses are down. She don’t know you from Agent Stark of the CDC. Don’t seem right to mislead her.” Dean pulled out onto the main road and pointed the car back toward their cabin.

“Let me get this straight,” Sam said as they waited at a stop sign for a woman to push a baby stroller across the intersection. “You. Of all people. Are telling me not to flirt under false pretenses? Mr. Knocked Up An Amazon Who Thought He Was An International Banker?”

“You _what_?” Cas asked from the back seat, and Dean shot him a nervous glance in the rear view mirror before focusing back on the road again.

“A, it was years ago, Cas. When the Leviathan were everywhere and we thought you were dead. And second, everybody lies at pick up joints like that. It’s expected. And the fuck? It’s not like I was trying to knock her up! She tricked me! It’s what Amazons _do_. And third, fuck you, Sammy.”

“Are you saying you have a child you’ve never mentioned before?” Cas asked, sounding just a little bit hurt.

“No,” Dean replied, glaring at Sam. “Sam shot her.”

“She was trying to kill you at the time, Dean.”

“She wasn’t trying _yet_ ,” Dean countered, but then sighed. “But yeah, she was there to kill me.”

Sam sighed. “I’m sorry I brought it up. That was a low blow. And I get what you’re saying. The fact I know something’s messing with these people, that they don’t have a choice and are under the assumption that everyone they meet is in the same position makes it a little skeevy.”

“I mean if you honestly like her, you can give her a call after we take care of whatever’s fucking with people around here. Then you can tell her whatever you want, but at least it’ll be of your own free will, and hers.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully at that, and then noticed where Dean was heading. “Wait, aren’t we gonna ask questions around town? Interview some of the people who’ve been affected? Why are we going back to the cabin already?”

Dean looked over at Sam like he’d just confessed that he only went jogging so he could have an excuse hide in the woods and secretly binge on Twinkies. “Dude, she said the first case was a guy who’d been camping out at the lake. Stands to reason the source is somewhere in or around the lake.”

“Oh, are we going hiking, then?” Jack asked, perking up.

Dean turned onto the narrow dirt road to the campground where their cabin was and then slammed on the brakes as a large, fat raccoon ambled across the path in front of them. It stopped in the middle of the road, stood up on its hind legs and stared at them for a second or two before lumbering off into the woods again.

“What the fuck, is even the wildlife around here going mental?” Dean asked, and then slowly let his foot off the brake and coasted back to the parking spot behind their cabin in case there were any more kamikaze woodland creatures lying in wait by the edge of the road.


	5. Chapter 5

“So, what’s your big plan, Dean,” Sam asked as they piled out of the car.

“Gear up and start walking until we see anything weird,” Dean replied, opening the trunk and sorting through their weapons stash. He picked up a gun loaded with witch killing bullets, a sawed off and a box of salt rounds, and an angel blade. “Then when we find the weird thing, we ask it politely to stop fucking with the townspeople. Come on, Sammy, you don’t need me to explain the job to you after all these years, do you?”

Sam rolled his eyes but followed Dean’s lead, handing out weapons to Cas and Jack as well. He also opened the cooler in the trunk and started passing out water bottles and sandwiches. “We should hydrate before we head out, too. And probably have some lunch. Or at least bring lunch with us. We might be gone a while.”

“You wanna use the potty before we leave, too?” Dean asked, picking up the entire cooler and carrying it toward the cabin. “We know how to plan for a hike. We also know you don’t leave food in the car when we’re in bear territory.”

“We don’t even know what we’re hunting for, do we?” Cas asked, following Dean but looking back at Sam and Jack for clarification, as well.

“Something in or near the lake,” Sam replied. It could be a hell of a lot of things, but I’ve never heard of any water creature that was only interested in making people tell the truth. Whatever it is might have other tricks up its sleeves.”

“If it even has sleeves,” Jack replied.

Sam threw him a quick smile and went on. “Regardless of what it is, we’ve probably got something that’ll at least disable it long enough for us to fall back and regroup. Especially if it’s bound to the lake.”

They entered the cabin to find Dean repacking his duffel bag at the kitchen counter, tossing a few extra water bottles in with his spare ammo. He set the bag on the floor, satisfied, and unwrapped a sandwich.

“Everyone should eat before we leave,” Dean said around a mouthful of ham and cheese. “Make sure you’re wearing good boots and warm socks. I got flashlights in case we’re not back by sundown, but it’s probably best to start heading back this way by three or four at the latest if we don’t wanna get stuck tripping through the woods in the dark.”

“Whatever you say, Mom,” Sam replied, but headed into his room to change his socks anyway.

“I’m prepared for anything,” Jack said, picking up a sandwich and a bottle of water and sitting down in one of the overstuffed chairs in the living area. “I’ve got an angel blade and a flashlight, and flasks of salt and holy water. Oh, and a lighter,” he added cheerfully, setting down his water to reach into his pocket and pull out a zippo. “I’ve been practicing.” He flicked his wrist and the lighter opened, and it only took him two tries to get it lit.

“That’s excellent, Jack,” Cas told him earnestly, picking out a sandwich for himself.

“You ready for a long walk, Cas?” Dean asked, trying his best not to sound like he was questioning Cas’s wilderness readiness skills, when he was only concerned for Cas’s wellbeing and comfort.

“I’m rather looking forward to it,” Cas replied. “It’ll be nice to experience nature when I’m not trying to fight my way back to civilization alone. It seems every time I’ve been in the woods in recent memory, it’s been for a uniquely unpleasant reason.”

Dean considered that for a moment, remembered just how close they were to where the portal from Purgatory had spat him out years ago, and then smiled. “Hey, it can’t be worse than Purgatory, and we survived that, right?”

Cas smiled at Dean and took another bite of his sandwich.

“Hey, has anyone seen my hairbrush?” Sam asked, looking from Jack to Cas to Dean. “I could swear I left it on the dresser in my room before we went into town this morning.”

“I use a comb on my hair,” Jack replied.

Dean and Cas exchanged a glance, before Dean said, “I don’t think Cas even knows what to do with a hairbrush, and my hair’s too short to need a brush anyway. I don’t think the lake monster will care if your hair’s perfectly coiffed.”

“I do know what to do with a hairbrush, Dean.”

“Yeah, but you prefer the artfully tousled look,” Dean replied, reaching up absently to floof the front of Cas’s hair.

“The woman at the salon where Sam took me to  have it cut referred to it as ‘sex hair,’” Cas informed him confidently.

Dean stopped chewing and nearly choked on his sandwich, but then swallowed hard and took a gulp from his water bottle. He turned to face the counter so nobody else would notice his face turning pink. “Yeah, right. I guess.”

“Aw, Dean’s feelings are hurt because someone else got a little flirty with Cas,” Sam said, and then shook his head. “Seriously, though, my hairbrush is gone. So if none of you have seen it, then someone else was in here.”

Cas tore his gaze from Dean, who still hadn’t recovered enough to look at anyone again yet. “This could potentially be serious, Sam. If we are dealing with a witch or a faerie, there are untold things they could do with a sample of your hair.”

“Oh, shit,” Sam replied, as the gravity of his situation set in.

Sam potentially being in danger gave Dean the strength to overcome his own awkward feelings, but instead of addressing the immediate problem at hand, he couldn’t resist at least pushing back again about Sam’s insistence on staying at that cabin.

“Next time, we are not staying in the cursed town, in a cabin spitting distance from the cursed lake, okay?”

“Yeah, fine, okay? I’m sorry. We didn’t know the lake was cursed when we rented the place, and it’s not like we were spoiled for choice.”

Dean sighed. “It’s fine, I guess. I mean, we’re right here and maybe we can get this whole fucking mess handled by the end of the day. It’s a nice place, and I can’t argue with the view. Well, aside from the fact that it’s apparently a view of a cursed lake.” He ran a hand over his face in frustration. “We’ll just have to keep an extra close watch on Sam.”

“I can do that,” Jack replied, getting to his feet and brushing crumbs off his jacket.

Sam smiled at him and actually looked relieved. “Thanks, Jack. You’re a great kid, you know?”

Jack nodded. “Yes, I try my best.”

“Great,” Dean grunted, finishing off the last of his water and heading off to use the bathroom so he wouldn’t have to pee in the woods. It was fucking cold out there. “We got a buddy system, then. Sam and Jack, and me and Cas.”

The buddy system had already worked out nicely before they’d barely left the cabin. Dean stepped off the front porch and nearly tripped over a raccoon. He slid down a short embankment blanketed in fallen pine needles, and Cas was right there by his side to catch him before he faceplanted into the stone ring of the fire pit out front of their cabin.

“Raccoon!” Dean yelled impotently at the scampering beastie.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Cas asked, checking Dean over for injuries even though the only thing injured had been his pride.

“It’s like the animals are out to get me or something,” he said, straightening up and looking warily out into the surrounding forest before yelling into the trees. “What did I ever do to you, huh?”

“Animals often have irrational and confusing agendas, Dean. Try not to take it personally,” Cas assured him.

“Tell me about it,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes and setting off toward the treeline with Cas in tow. “Did I ever tell you about the time we needed to talk to a dog to solve a case?”

Sam let the two of them walk out of earshot. He wasn’t in the mood to think about any case they worked while he’d been unwittingly possessed by an angel. He had other more pressing concerns if their monster of the week had gotten ahold of his hair.

“Jack, I need you to make sure I don’t start acting strange, okay? If I give you any orders that don’t sound like me, or that seem dangerous or reckless, I need you to keep us both safe and tell Dean and Cas immediately, okay? I’m counting on you.”

Jack looked at him earnestly. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, Sam. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sam smiled at him and patted Jack’s shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”

They finally set off after Dean and Cas, and walked along companionably for a few minutes until Jack cautiously raised a subject from earlier. It had clearly been weighing on his mind, from the hesitance in his voice. “You shot Dean’s daughter?”

“It was complicated,” Sam hedged, but when that felt unsatisfactory, he tried to explain. “It was seven or eight years ago, now. Dean slept with a woman who turned out to be an Amazon. They lure in men for a one night stand, get pregnant, and then a couple days later, the daughter has to kill their father before they can officially become Amazons themselves.”

“A couple days?” Jack asked, wide eyed. “She grew up fast. Like me. But with a compulsion to murder.”

Sam considered how to argue that point, but he had nothing, so he just shrugged. Jack wasn’t through processing this thought.

“I feel bad now, if the way I grew up brought back any painful memories of having to kill his own daughter. For Dean, and for you. I wonder if that added to Dean’s fears about me when I was first born.”

“It might have, but you know for a long time before you were born, the only thing we knew about nephilim was that they were incredibly powerful, and possibly too dangerous to be allowed to live. But then we got to know you, and see the kind of person you are, and that changed everything. You’re family now. Even to Dean.”

Jack nodded, accepting this. “I know. He buys the cocoa with the tiny marshmallows for Cas, and he buys the chocolates with nougat in them for me. He doesn’t even like nougat.”

Sam laughed at that. “Yeah, that’s Dean. He might have a hard time saying it in complete sentences, but that’s how he shows you he cares.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they climbed over a fallen tree trunk and then carefully made their way down a rough incline where part of the shoreline had washed away. That had apparently only given Jack time to come up with more questions for Sam.

“Dean does a lot of things for Cas,” he started. “And Cas does a lot of things for him, too. I’m not sure either of them really sees it, though.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked warily, having a feeling he knew where Jack was going with this, but not wanting to traumatize the poor kid if he was wrong.

Jack surprised him by seemingly changing the subject entirely. “When Castiel was dead, when he was in the Empty, my power woke him up there. I didn’t know it had happened at the time. Even after he came back and you asked me if I had done something to bring him back, I didn’t understand how I could have. I thought maybe it was just because I wanted Castiel to be alive so much that it had simply happened. But then one night while I was in the other universe and getting better at understanding my powers, I remembered reaching out to him. It wasn’t  _ me _ who wanted Cas back. It was Dean. It was his longing for Cas that led my power to him.”

Jack frowned and stopped walking, so Sam stopped too and waited for Jack to go on.

“It doesn’t really make sense to me now that my power is gone, but at the time I could feel it, like a cord connecting them, and my power latched onto it and pulled. I’m not sure how I know now, but I think that’s how I brought him back.”

Sam didn’t really know what to say to that, except that it reminded him of something from the very distant past. Something that he hadn’t thought about in a long time.

“Cas once told me that he and Dean had a profound bond. I was soulless at the time, and I just thought he was being a sarcastic little shit because he’d been ignoring me for the better part of a year, but you might be onto something there. I mean, Cas burned his handprint into Dean’s shoulder pulling him out of Hell. There had to be something to an angel leaving a mark on a human like that. He didn’t leave a mark on me, anyway.”

Jack nodded and started walking again, as if Sam had just confirmed every theory he’d had on the subject. “Then why do they spend so much time pushing each other way? Or I guess they might not be doing that so much anymore.”

Despite having stopped for a few minutes, they’d actually gained some ground on Cas and Dean, who also seemed to keep stopping to examine the lakeshore, or just to talk quietly with one another. It reminded Sam that they were hunting an unknown monster, and that it might be a good idea to keep a lookout for it. But now he couldn’t stop thinking about what Jack had told him that morning when he’d asked if Dean and Cas had kept him up being grumpy about having to share a bed. When Jack told him they’d been peacefully asleep for hours, and that they’d been  _ hugging in their sleep _ , as Jack had put it, it had left Sam speechless for a minute or two. It then took everything in him to stop himself from shouting. It was still too soon to tell if celebrations were in order. Knowing his brother and his best friend, they’d stoically continue to avoid actually addressing the increasingly large elephant in the room until the elephant grew so huge it crushed them all to death.

Sam detoured to examine some unusual looking scratches in the trunk of a nearby tree as a pretense for letting Dean and Cas maintain the gap between them. They were probably just left by some wild animal marking its territory, and not any sort of magical runes or anything.

“I think these were left by a skunk,” Jack declared, pointing out the tracks in the mud at the base of the tree.

“Yeah, well, if that’s the case, we should probably keep moving. We don’t need to be skunked on top of being cursed.”

Jack nodded. “I don’t think Dean would ever let us get in the Impala again if we were.”

“Hah! You’d be surprised at the gross things that car has endured over the years. Sometimes we just didn’t have a choice. It was either get in the car and go, or become monster lunch, or worse.”

Sam launched into a series of increasingly disgusting and rather embarrassing stories about all the various indignities they’d exposed Baby to in their years on the road. He and Jack managed to keep at least one eye on the lake and one eye on Dean and Cas up ahead as they walked.

Meanwhile, Cas had explained the mechanics of the spell that had allowed Dean to converse with animals, and had sadly informed Dean that like the contents of the Tablets, the true purpose of dogs had not been divinely revealed to angels. Although he did put forth the theory that Chuck had probably not had any specific intent for them beyond the joy of creation itself. Some things were simply happy accidents, and Cas believed that whatever dogs thought of as their true purpose was likely knowledge best kept to themselves.

Their conversation meandered through several other topics ranging from how Cas was adjusting to humanity and life in the bunker, to what they planned to do once they took care of whatever had gone haywire with the local honesty.

“I wouldn’t mind sticking around for the rest of the week,” Dean said. “We already paid for the cabin for that long, and it took two days of driving to get here. Might as well get our money’s worth.”

“That does sound pleasant,” Cas agreed. “It’s cold, but it’s quiet here. Peaceful. Maybe you could teach me how to fish. Ever since I interrupted that dream where you were fishing, I’ve been curious to learn. You seemed to find it relaxing in your dream, at least.”

Dean stopped walking again and looked seriously at Cas. “If you wanna go fishing, then we’ll go fishing.”

Cas returned Dean’s earnest stare with interest. “Just like that? If I ask for something, or show an interest in something, you’re ready to accommodate me?”

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, suppressing the urge to just blurt out  _ yes _ with a vengeance. He was about to succumb to the urge when Cas smiled and turned away from him, releasing him from his gaze and carefully picking out a path through the fallen leaves.

“The morning we left the bunker, I asked about vehicle maintenance, and you shared your time and knowledge with me. I realize I ask a lot of you, especially now that I’m human. I hope you know that you have the right to say no to me, Dean.”

“I don’t wanna say no to you,” Dean replied, unable to hold back the truth, but still able to keep from shouting it to the world. An unwanted reminder flashed across his mind’s eye, of his fear that he’d end up walking down main street with a sign proclaiming not only his sexuality, but his feelings for Cas. It might’ve been the absolute truth, but it was still overshadowed by the even bigger truth that saying anything about it could potentially drive away the best friend he’d ever had.

Sure, that assumed truth had taken a few hits in the last couple of days, especially after the way they’d woken up that morning. That didn’t make admitting it seem any less dangerous to Dean. At least, not yet. He took a deep breath and let that ground him. It was the only thing keeping him from either running for the hills or running into town to buy posterboard and a rainbow assortment of markers. Neither of those things would help him on this hunt. He risked a glance over at Cas to see him looking just as conflicted as he felt, and they walked along in slightly awkward silence for another minute or two.

“It’s like the marshmallows,” Cas muttered to himself before straightening up and slowing his pace again.

“What was that?” Dean asked, not sure if he’d heard him correctly while he’d been lost in his own tormented thoughts.

Cas took a deep breath and shook his head, and then took an entirely different tack.

“Sam implied that you were uncomfortable because of what the woman at the hair salon said to me.”

He didn’t qualify that statement with anything, or ask it like it was a question. Cas simply laid out the facts as he’d understood them, and left it up to Dean to confirm or deny the assertion. Dean stopped in his tracks and Cas continued on a few paces, giving Dean a bit of personal space to do with that thought what he would. He looked out over the lake, and then pivoted around to scan the surrounding forest before finally risking a glance back at Dean.

“You mean the sex hair thing?” Dean finally asked.

Cas just shrugged. “Sam explained to me after we left her shop that she’d been flirting with me. I don’t think there was any real intent behind it, but I didn’t reciprocate her feelings even if there had been. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way by bringing it up.”

“You didn’t. I mean, I can’t help it if someone flirts with you, you know?” Dean was grateful for the two feet of space between them. It was just far enough that he was able to suppress the urge to grab him up into a koala hug and beg Cas never to leave him. The truth was he knew that was a disastrous impulse, even if it was honestly how he felt. But this wasn’t all about Dean. He really cared about Cas, even to the degree that what Cas wanted felt more important that his own clingy needs. “I, uh… I also got no right to feel uncomfortable if you wanted to flirt back. If you had, you know,  _ reciprocated _ .”

Cas studied him for a moment, confusion clear on his face. “You have every right to your own feelings, Dean.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil,” Dean said with a snort. “Good to know I’m valid, or whatever, but you got a right to yours, too. Don’t matter how anyone else feels about it. You’re human now, and you went through a hell of a lot of shit to earn your retirement from Heaven’s payroll. It’s your choice how you wanna spend it.”

“Yes, it is,” Cas replied, looking no less confused about the point Dean was driving at.

Dean sighed and rubbed his face, and then started walking again, Cas falling in at his side though still leaving an arm’s length gap between them.

“So if you wanted to take a break from hunting, go out into the world and sow your wild oats or take that retirement literally, I get it, okay?”

It was Cas who stopped walking this time, not looking quite as confused but more startled by Dean’s statement. Dean didn’t stop walking, though, trudging on with his head bowed as if hunkering down under the weight of his declaration. Cas rushed to catch up with him, reaching out to grab Dean by the shoulder. He stopped, but still didn’t look up.

“Dean, would you want to stop hunting? To retire completely?”

Dean pasted on a self-deprecating smile and took a deep breath, finally glancing up as high as Cas’s chin, but unable to look him in the eye. “Me? Nah, I know I’m in it until I can’t physically do it anymore.”

Cas nodded as if he’d made up his mind. “Then why would I want to stop, either?”

Dean’s heartbeat sped and he blinked up at Cas, entirely surprised by his reply. “Because you can do whatever you want.”

“So can you,” Cas replied, then sighed, glancing back to see Sam and Jack still following in the distance, chatting companionably. He heard the occasional burst of laughter, but whatever they were discussing, the words didn’t quite carry far enough for him to hear. He still lowered his voice and got Dean walking again before he spoke. “You said we could go fishing, that you don’t want to say no to me.”

Dean shrugged. “I like doing shit with you, Cas. I like having you around. But if you wanted to leave, I also couldn’t tell you not to.”

“Then you should be relieved to know that leaving is the last thing I want.” Cas closed his eyes for a moment and then looked up at the sky, clouds rushing by in the clear autumn afternoon. “I know I haven’t been very good at staying in the past, but what I told you once years ago is still true. I’d rather be here, with you, than anywhere else. It’s why I chose  _ retirement _ in the first place.”

Dean nodded slowly, letting that information sink in. “So you’re not just hanging around until you get your feet under you? No big plans for the future? Never thought about taking off on your own and seeing if there was something better out there?”

Cas laughed. He threw his head back and actually laughed until he stumbled over a fallen branch and Dean had to catch him.

“Dude, what the fuck is so funny?”

Dean held on to his arm where he’d grabbed him to keep him upright while Cas patted his hand and caught his breath. When he turned back to Dean he was smiling fondly, all traces of confusion and surprise washed away by his laughter.

“Dean, I am older than you can comprehend, and I’ve seen almost everything that it’s possible to see. I’ve watched the entirety of human history unfold, and the only things I want to see now are the things you can show me. Why would I ever want to take off on my own again?”

“I dunno, Cas. That’s what people do.” Dean tried to stop himself there, tried to hold back the words, but he couldn’t. “People leave me.”

Cas’s smile fell and he looked Dean in the eye, into his face stunned into shock by his own admission. “I swear it then. I’m not going to leave you, Dean.”

Dean shook his head slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Don’t promise that, man.”

“Why not? I rebelled against Heaven for you. I stopped apocalypses for you, and I fell from Heaven so I’d never have to leave you again. I’m only stating a fact.”

“Okay,” Dean replied, allowing this fundamental shift in his perception of the universe to click into place.

“So just as you say you don’t want to say no to me, I find I’m just as reluctant to say no to you.”

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, wondering where he should go from there. He’d thought he’d been on a clearly marked path all these years, and Cas’s simple statement had pitched him into the underbrush. It was good to know that Cas wanted to be there with him, to keep hunting and living in the bunker and watching movies and learning how cars worked. In some ways it relieved some of his fears, but it also concentrated his remaining fears into a singular point. An elephant-sized point, but still.

Dean was still mentally wandering around the elephant trying to figure out how to get it through the doorway and out into the wild when Cas grabbed his arm and stopped him from walking. He glanced at the hand on his shoulder and then up at Cas, but Cas was surveying the mouth of a small stream running down from the hill above them and emptying out into the lake. He realized that Cas had stopped him from stepping into the soft mud at the edge of the stream, and now that they’d stopped crunching leaves and pine needles beneath their feet he couldn’t imagine how he hadn’t heard the burbling rush of water sooner. The sound snapped him out of his thoughts and brought his attention immediately back to the case. They weren’t exactly on vacation yet, and he glanced back to see Sam and Jack still a good distance off. As long as Sam might be vulnerable to whoever had the power to lay a spell on an entire town, he needed to focus on finishing this hunt before setting off after elephants.

“You think there might be something worth finding up there?” Dean asked

“I didn’t see this stream on any of the maps I looked at in the car, so it seems worth investigating,” Cas replied.

Dean leaned forward to try and see as far upstream as he could. The creek wound through the trees, up away from the lake, disappearing around the side of a hill. The only thing that caught his eye was a raccoon sitting on a rock in the middle of the stream about thirty feet away, washing his paws. The raccoon noticed him, too, and Dean could’ve sworn the critter smiled at him.

“Did you see that?” Dean said to Cas, reaching into his jacket for his knife. “That raccoon just fucking grinned at me.”

“What raccoon?” Cas replied, following Dean’s glare upstream until he spotted it. “Oh, I think we frightened it.”

They watched as the raccoon jumped from its rock to the bank of the stream and out of sight behind a thicket of pine saplings.

“He was probably washing his dinner, and we interrupted him,” Cas added, not entirely certain of that claim when the raccoon reappeared, his head poking up between the branches, standing on its hind legs and staring at them as if it were waiting for them to follow.

“Yeah, that don’t seem like normal raccoon behavior,” Dean replied, tearing his eyes away from the creature long enough to raise his hand and beckon to Sam and Jack. When they noticed his signal and picked up their pace, he gestured up the stream to let them know he and Cas were going ahead. 

They walked as quietly as they could, half following the bank of the stream without getting close enough that falling in was a risk, half following the raccoon. Dean had expected him to scuttle off, or scurry up a tree to get away from them, but instead the creature lumbered along at a reasonable pace. Dean and Cas exchanged dubious glances the first time the raccoon stopped, turned around to make sure they were still following, and then continued on when he was satisfied. Neither was entirely sure that they had actually witnessed it at first.

“That is definitely not your average fucking raccoon,” Dean muttered, debating whether to swap his knife out for his gun after the second time it stopped.

By then, Sam and Jack had reached the stream and had almost caught up to them. They slowed their pace, hanging back until they had a chance to evaluate the situation for themselves. Dean knew when Sam caught sight of the raccoon, because he heard him mutter, “So does this make me Groot?”

Dean turned around to glare at him, but then ended up shrugging instead.

They didn’t have to follow the stream for long before the forest opened up into a clearing where the waterway widened as it curved around the side of a comfortably sized cottage. Unlike their little cabin back at the lake, this was a proper, year-round dwelling, and despite appearing to be lovingly cared for, it also looked as if it had stood empty for some time. The windows were dark, and no smoke rose from any of the three chimneys.

From the treeline, Dean held up a hand to stop everyone from spilling out into the yard at once. He leaned closer to Cas as they watched the raccoon reach the corner of the building before it stopped and turned around again.

“Did that raccoon just roll its eyes at us?” Jack asked.

The raccoon stood there staring at them until Cas finally whispered, “I think he’s waiting for us to follow him.”

“Are you a good raccoon or a bad raccoon?” Dean muttered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “If you’re the same one who nearly got yourself run over, and paid me back by trying to kill me back at the cabin, I got my doubts.”

Cas made a disapproving noise, and Dean readjusted his grip on his knife.

“Just sayin’, he hasn’t made a great first impression, is all.”

Dean led the way out of the cover of the pines, past the post-harvest remains of a small vegetable garden, right up to the side of the house. He’d started to feel silly about halfway between the decaying tomato plants and the corner of the building. There was no point trying to be stealthy. Not only were they standing right out in the open for anyone to see, if the raccoon was leading them there with malicious intent, whether it was responsible for the curse or just a minion of the spellcaster, it was likely their presence was already known. He gave up the pretense of crouching low and trying to be sneaky, and his back thanked him immediately.

He didn’t know that, behind him, Sam had rolled his eyes and held Jack back from following as cavalierly as Cas did. When Sam’s hand landed on his arm, Jack panicked. He turned to see Sam shaking his head and urging him to slow down and use a bit more caution than Dean was. Jack, unfortunately, took this as a sign that Sam had been compromised by the thief who’d stolen his hairbrush.

“Dean, Castiel!” he called out, and Sam released him to slap his own forehead.

“Shhh, Jack, we’re trying to be at least a little sneaky here,” Sam urged him in a whisper, but it was too late. Sam and Dean-- and anyone else in a quarter mile radius-- had probably heard him.

Dean turned around to glare at the both of them, while Cas merely looked alarmed by the sudden outburst. A gentle splashing sound echoed into the silence that followed. All of their attention shifted to what lay around the corner of the building, and whatever creature may have made the sound. Dean gave Sam and Jack both a quelling look, and then turned to Cas to silently formulate their plan of action. It wasn’t a complicated plan.

The two of them peered around the corner to see the source of the stream they’d been following-- a swimming pool sized pond surrounded by a well-tended garden, the flowers blooming months past the end of their typical growing season. At the near edge of the pond sat a grove of cherry trees surrounding a bench beneath a simple wooden shelter. They’d peeked around just in time to watch the raccoon scamper past the bench and around to the far side of the pond, where he resumed his stance of staring them down until they fulfilled his silent request to come closer.

Dean and Cas exchanged another glance, and Dean finally shrugged as they came to a mutual agreement. Neither of them bothered checking in with Sam and Jack, who were now having a heated yet mercifully quiet debate about the importance of stealth in potentially dangerous situations. Dean couldn’t fault Jack’s logic, that it was more important to make sure Sam hadn’t been compromised, and that he trusted Dean not to lead them all into danger, even when his actions might appear to be reckless at first glance. But Sam made a strong argument that Jack’s relative lack of experience meant that he should hang back until he could fully assess what they were walking into. Knowing his own ability to evaluate a dangerous situation and adapt on the fly was something Jack was still working on, and his track record was spotty at best. Dean hushed them both with a wave of his hand. They would have to sort it all out after they dealt with their current raccoon troubles.

Dean let Cas take the lead as they rounded the corner and crossed through the small garden to the water’s edge. The raccoon remained on sentry duty, standing up a little straighter as they approached, looking first at them and then pointedly at the pond. Cas gave Dean a concerned glance, and then they peered down into the water.

“There’s a girl in there,” Dean said, torn between the impulse to dive in to pull her out and the extreme wariness that this was some sort of a trap.

Before he could chose a course of action, the girl rose to the surface of the deceptively deep pool and blinked up at them as she brushed a lily pad out of her hair with what had to be Sam’s hairbrush. She continued brushing her instantly dry hair as she climbed out onto the shore, regarding her visitors with a mixture of interest and what Dean could only describe as disappointment. The long white tunic she wore shrugged off the water as easily as her hair did, and by the time she’d stood up on the lawn in front of them she was completely dry.

“What the…” Sam said, coming to a stop beside Dean. “How did you get my brush?”

“Great opening line, Sam,” Dean muttered, not taking his eyes off the woman. “But I guess it is a decent question.”

The woman cleared her throat, which sounded almost like gargling as the water disappeared from her mouth. “I’m sorry, Azeban brought it to me this morning. I didn’t know it belonged to you. I think he wanted to be helpful. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to brush my hair, and I think he knew we’d be having company.”

She held out the brush to Sam, looking deeply apologetic. Sam held up a hand to stop her. Unlike the woman and her clothing, the brush was still waterlogged. He wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about using a brush that had spent the morning soaking in a pond.

“No, no, that’s okay. You can keep it. I can get another one.”

Her entire demeanor softened at that, and she clutched the brush to her chest with both hands. “I appreciate the gift, and I will find a way to repay you for your generosity. And Azeban will help, since it was his mischief that instigated your loss.”

The raccoon had trotted around the lake to stand by the woman’s feet, and he didn’t look nearly as apologetic as she did. He chittered at her for a moment, and she laughed.

“Yes, Azeban, I know you were only trying to help, but sometimes your brand of help causes new troubles.”

“Heh, we know a few people like that,” Dean replied.

“Yes, well,” Cas interrupted. “I’m glad everyone is suddenly so content to chat, but we hiked out here for a reason.”

The woman conferred with the raccoon for a moment, becoming more excited as he went on. Dean leaned in close to Cas so he could whisper in his ear.

“Can you still understand animal language?”

Cas shook his head. “Not entirely, but he does seem to understand that we’re hunters, and the undine is pleased about that fact.”

“Undine?” Sam asked. “She’s a water nymph? What’s she doing in a forest pond in northern Maine?”

“Trying not to freeze to death,” the woman replied when she overheard Sam’s question.

Sam looked contrite, but the woman-- the undine-- did as well. She took a deep breath and walked toward the sheltered bench, frowning at it when she realized it was nowhere near large enough to accommodate all four of her guests.

“I apologize that I didn’t prepare for such a crowd of visitors. I was expecting one, maybe two at the most.”

“Sorry to inconvenience you,” Dean replied, “but I think we’re okay standing for now.”

“Well, then I do believe introductions are in order,” the undine said. She waved a hand at the raccoon, still by her side awaiting further instructions. “You’ve met Azeban. He’s a local being of great power who came to my aid recently. I’m Penthia, and as your friend here pointed out, I am an undine. But your other friend misnamed me. I prefer the label naiad to nymph.”

Cas nodded, and Sam gave an awkward little bow in apology for his mistake.

“I’m Castiel,” Cas began, hoping to put Penthia at ease. “Former angel of the Lord, now human. My companions are Dean and Sam Winchester, and Jack Kline.”

Penthia blinked, taken aback for a moment by this tidal wave of information. “I’ve heard of you all, but never expected that you would be the ones to answer my plea for help.”

“Plea for help?” Dean asked. “You mean turning the whole town into Truth or Consequences, whether they liked it or not?”

She frowned at that and turned to Azeban. “Is that what you’ve done? Used my water to carry that sort of chaos into town?”

The raccoon chittered back at her, and she answered, “Yes, I understand it got someone’s attention, but we’re lucky it got the attention of hunters known for asking questions before they shoot.”

At that comment, Dean frowned and tucked his knife back into his pocket, moderately grateful that he hadn’t drawn his gun.

“So what is it that you need help with?” Sam asked, and then frowned. “And now that we’re here, is there a way to turn off the truth serum so the folks in town can get back to their lives as usual?”

Penthia gave Azeban a look, and he ran off to the water’s edge and began uprooting random plants. Cas watched this with curiosity, resolving into satisfaction as he made note of the types of plants the raccoon removed.

“Borage, violet, foxglove, moonwort,” he listed off, nodding. “All plants associated with uncovering the truth.”

Penthia smiled at him and waved up at her cherry grove, as well. “I believe Azeban may have taken inspiration from my trees.”

“And they probably multiplied the spell’s power tenfold,” Sam replied, looking impressed, as if he were about to get into a technical discussion about the truth-telling properties of all the herbs in question, and their potential use in other sorts of magic. “Like a big woody radio antenna.”

“How long will it take for the hoodoo to wear off?” Dean asked, hoping the effects wore off before Sam lost his whole entire mind. Or subjected them all to hearing the unfiltered contents of his whole entire mind.

“The spell should already be weakening, but if anyone’s stored any of the water before Azeban broke the spell, there could be lingering effects if they drink or bathe in it,” Penthia replied. “Otherwise everyone affected should be free of it by the time the moon rises again.”

Dean glared at both Sam and Jack again, and then shook his head in commiseration at Cas. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and muttered to Cas, “These two dopes soaked themselves in it this morning. No wonder they can’t hold their shit together.”

“Dean, you and I both brushed our teeth with the water, and I washed my hands and face several times since we got here. I hope you did, as well.” Cas gave him a critical look, knowing Dean had used the bathroom right before they’d left the cabin.

Dean squirmed a bit, thinking back. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, I did. But at least I’m not falling all over myself to say whatever pops into my head.”

“You fell over Azeban,” Cas replied with a raised eyebrow, leaving off the assortment of things Dean had said over the last twenty four hours that may or may not have been helped along by a carefully applied splash of liquid honesty.

“Yeah, but the raccoon ran under my feet. Not like the water caused that,” Dean muttered, but conceded he was feeling the effects of it anyway. “I guess it’s no worse than a couple shots of whiskey.”

Cas smiled at that. “At least there won’t be a hangover. Or regrets,” he added, giving Dean a hopeful but uncertain look.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Jack mercifully reminded them that they had an audience.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your analysis, but Penthia still needs our help, and we don’t even know with what.” Jack turned his earnest look from Dean and Cas to Penthia. “Are you in immediate danger?”

Penthia breathed a huge sigh of relief and gave Jack a fond and grateful smile. “I don’t believe I am anymore, thanks to the four of you. If half of what I’ve heard of you is true, then I think I’m in good hands.”

Sam nodded sincerely. “I’d love to know what you’ve heard about us, but tell us what we can do for you first, and we’ll do our best.”

Penthia laughed at that. “Well, that’s one of the things I’ve heard, that the Winchesters do the best they can and have saved universes in the process. My problem is slightly more mundane than your usual entanglements, but as much as I still need your help, perhaps the change of pace for you will prove refreshing?”

“Well, we can’t complain about the scenery,” Sam replied, admiring the garden and then smiling at Penthia. “It’s been a long time since we were up this way long enough to stop and enjoy the natural beauty.”

Penthia blushed, bowing her head coyly and hiding her face behind her hand. “I hope you’re not including me in that appreciation, Sam Winchester. I’m already betrothed to another.”

Sam sputtered for a moment and then blurted out an apology. “Oh gosh, well you are very pretty, but I don’t know you at all, and I just meant the lake and the forest, and Maine in general in autumn is gorgeous. The last time I was up here it was spring, and Dean picked me up where Purgatory spat me out. We were only here for a few hours in the middle of the night, so it’s awesome to finally get to see it in daylight. The weather’s been beautiful, too. We really lucked out getting here before it started dropping below freezing, all things considered. But I didn’t mean to make you uncom--”

Penthia held up a hand to stop Sam from tripping over any more unnecessary truths. “It’s fine, Sam. I believe you, of course.” She nodded her head toward where Azeban was still working on clearing the spell from the pond. “But you’ve also covered several points that are directly related to my current concern which led me to take desperate measures in search of aid.”

“Now that we got babbling brook over here to shut his trap,” Dean said, side-eyeing his brother, who bit his lip to keep himself from talking again, “What can we do for you?”

Penthia took a deep breath, studying her hands as she wrung them together, and then gave all four of them a long look. “Let’s start with practicalities, then. Do you know a hunter named Nadia Vogel?”

Sam frowned at Dean and shook his head.

“I’ve heard the name, but never met her,” Dean replied.

“I met her,” Jack said, smiling when Sam, Dean, and Cas, all slowly turned surprised looks on him. “She helped me after I left you last year, after… when I didn’t trust my own power not to hurt anyone. I helped her with a vengeful spirit case, and she helped me begin to trust myself again.”

“Your power?” Penthia said. “You must be the half-angel. and as a half-human, you might well understand my current dilemma.”

“I’m all human now,” Jack replied. “Just like Castiel.”

“Yeah, they both converted,” Dean said, interrupting again to bring them back to the point. “So is this Nadia half-human also?”

“No,” Penthia replied, taken aback. “ _ I _ am.”

Cas was the first of them to put all the pieces together. “You’ve initiated a bond with Nadia.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, but Penthia was nodding excitedly now.

“Yes, yes I have. And now Nadia’s been away for the last two months, and the leaves fell and the nights grow longer. My pond is in danger of freezing, and I’m too human to stop it, and too undine to leave it without completing our bond.”

“So what, Nadia proposed and then left you at the altar?” Dean asked.

“That’s not how it works, Dean,” Cas explained, but again Penthia took over to tell her story from the beginning.

“We’ve known each other for nearly ten years, ever since she built her home here and allowed me to build mine,” she said, waving a hand at her pond. “Nadia would leave to hunt, and I’d care for her gardens and the waterways while she was away. But she’s always come back. This is our home, after all.”

Dean cast a quick glance over at Cas, and caught Cas glancing back at him. They both shifted uncomfortably, but they didn’t have long to dwell on their own past actions before Penthia went on.

“Last winter, when hunters were being hunted, I begged her to go into hiding. She didn’t want to leave me, but her friend Garth warned her that hunters were being targeted specifically. She worried that staying here would also put me at risk, and I could always flee to the Silver Lake if anyone approached the property. So Nadia left, and Azeban became my companion. Together we kept vigil over the land until Nadia returned.”

Azeban finished pulling the last plant from the shore and ambled over to her side, chittering away.

“Yes, friend. You have been excellent company in her absence.”

The raccoon sat by her feet looking satisfied with himself.

“And you didn’t freeze last year because you weren’t bound to her yet,” Dean replied, nodding, glancing at Cas for both confirmation and out of a sense of guilt over all the times he’d both metaphorically and physically left Cas out in the cold, despite the supposed profound bond they’d shared for more than a decade.

Cas smiled a little sadly at him, and surreptitiously patted the back of Dean’s hand to reassure him. They were both here now, and neither of them would be left out in the cold tonight. Dean felt a flash of tingling warmth run through him at the reminder that they had the perfect excuse to crawl into bed and curl up under the blankets together again in just a few hours. He pushed the thought down so it wouldn’t come tumbling out his mouth. The spell was wearing off quickly now, but it wasn’t worth risking it when they still had a job to do.

Penthia smiled at him and nodded. “Yes, but when the danger passed, Nadia returned. Our separation had been painful for both of us. It made us realize that we didn’t want to be without each other again. We began the bonding ritual at midsummer, and I’ve been becoming more and more human ever since. There’s one final step in the process, but a little more than six weeks ago Nadia was called away to take care of an emergency, and she promised to be back before the change of seasons. I haven’t seen her since. When the leaves fell, I began to worry. That’s when Azeban suggested his plan.”

“See, Cas?” Dean said. “You were right. The leaves falling was a clue.”

Cas nodded. “Yes, just not the way we were expecting it to be.”

“So you need us to help you find Nadia?” Jack asked.

“Why couldn’t you just call her?’ Sam asked.

Penthia held out her hands. “I live in a lake. I don’t have a telephone. Nadia did leave me the key to her house in case of emergency, and I did try to call all the numbers she left for me, but she didn’t answer, and she wouldn’t try to call back because she knows I can’t wait in the house indefinitely. I need to return to the water.”

Sam nodded as if that all made complete sense. “I guess you’ve been calling as regularly as you can, then? Have you tried calling Garth yourself?”

Penthia shook her head. “Nadia and I agreed that until our bond was complete and I’m fully human, she wouldn’t tell anyone else of my existence. It was as much for my safety as hers. She tells me that there are hunters who would’ve waited until she was away and then come to hunt me.” She gave the raccoon a pointed look. “She told you the same, and you still put us at risk drawing attention like that.”

Azeban chittered away at her again, and her eyes went wide. When he was done, she nodded slowly and turned a surprised look on her guests.

“He assures me that he had contingency plans in place to assure that no hunter who might harm me would ever reach this place.” She shuddered, and everyone agreed they didn’t need to know what sort of trouble Azeban had planned for anyone intent on harming Penthia.

Dean gave the raccoon a wary look and his palm itched to hold his gun, just in case. He wasn’t sure if witch killing bullets or even salt rounds would do anything to the little trickster, but he’d feel better holding a weapon anyway.

“Yeah, well, Garth’s not your average hunter,” Dean replied.

Penthia shrugged. “Nadia has told me that he’s not human, and would be the last person to judge us or do anything to put us in danger, but he is still a hunter. It seemed safer if no one knew I existed, that I was frequently here alone, and so Nadia kept our entire relationship a secret. It’s not just that she’s a hunter romantically tied to a non-human, but to someone of the same gender.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t think Garth would’ve given her any shit about it,” Dean added, miraculously containing the uncomfortable squirming feeling in his gut and brushing away the impulse to stare at Cas again by rubbing his neck. “So would you like us to call him for you and ask if he knows where Nadia is?”

Penthia took a very deep breath, looked down at Azeban for reassurance, and the raccoon placed his little hand on top of her bare foot and returned her gaze.

“Yes,” she replied. “I think I’m ready.”

It hit all four of them in that moment that Penthia had no idea what news to expect, whether Nadia was even alive anymore. If something had gone wrong on her hunt, nobody would’ve known Penthia even existed, let alone known to tell her that anything had happened to Nadia.

Dean knew that feeling all too fucking well. Every time Cas had gone off on his own-- hunting for Lucifer, consorting with Heaven on dangerous angel business, where even the people who were supposed to be his allies often wanted him dead just as badly as their enemies did. He’d known the agony of calling around to local hospitals, and worse, searching for John Doe in a Tan Trenchcoat listings in police databases and morgues.

He fought the urge to stare at Cas, and contained it to a heart-fluttering glance. Cas hadn’t bothered to resist, and was full-on staring at Dean, as if he realized what Dean must’ve felt every time he’d left, and every time he’d failed to get so much as a text message in return. Dean gave a little shake of his head to let Cas know it was all water under the bridge, and pulled out his phone. Miraculously, they had a decent signal.

Dean scrolled through his phone contacts for Garth’s number while Sam fussed over Penthia, asking if he could get anything for her-- a glass of water, or something to eat-- and assured her they didn’t mind if she needed to sit down for this. She declined, but she did shuffle a few steps closer to her pond. Dean saw the movement out the corner of his eye and at first he thought she was gearing up to run for it. But as soon as her toes sank into the soft mud at the edge of the water he understood she was just trying to ground herself in the comfort and safety of her home.

Garth picked up on the third ring, with a cheerful, “Hey, Dean, long time no hear. What’s up in Winchester wonderland?”

“Relatively little, all things considered,” Dean replied. “How’s the family?”

“We’re doing great, actually. Bess is really settling in as the de facto head of the church now, and we’ve welcomed a few new members who found their way here after the unpleasantness.”

Dean laughed, because only Garth could refer to the intended genocide of his entire species as  _ the unpleasantness _ and still sound cheerful about it. “Well that’s good to hear. Hey, I actually called with a quick question for you.”

“Well, shoot, Dean. As long as you’re not shooting silver.” Garth laughed at his own joke, and Dean sighed.

“You called Nadia Vogel out on a hunt a month or two back.”

“That doesn’t sound much like a question,” Garth replied, his joking tone disappearing into serious business mode. “It sounds like you already know that I did.”

“Yeah, I got someone here trying to find her, and I was hoping you could help us track her down.”

Garth hemmed and hawed about what to say for a minute before Dean heard Bess asking what was wrong. Dean put his phone on speaker, knowing that everyone else would want to hear this too. Garth muffled his phone for a minute, but they didn’t have to wait long before he put the phone back to his ear and sighed.

“She helped me out on two cases, actually. The first was a chupacabra thing I’d heard about down in Texas. I couldn’t get away to handle it myself, but it was moving north and taking out victims on its way through the Oklahoma panhandle. Nadia flew down, tracked it for about a week, and finally caught up to it on the western Kansas border.

“She called me about a month ago and told me she was gonna head back to Maine, asking if I had anything else she could take care of along the way. I’d heard about some demon activity about a hundred miles south of here, and she agreed to meet me down in Waterloo.”

“Well, that’s not ominous or anything,” Sam muttered, just barely loud enough for Dean’s phone to pick it up, but Garth heard it anyway.

“She thought it was hilarious at first,” Garth replied, but couldn’t resist exchanging pleasantries. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey,” Sam replied. “So, demons in Waterloo?”

“Nah, the demons were in Independence. We just met up in Waterloo. They got an airfield big enough for her to land at.”

Dean choked a bit at that, and even Sam seemed surprised. Garth must’ve heard Dean’s pained sound, because he laughed and informed them that the only way a hunter can bring all the tools of their trade on an airplane is to fly it themselves. Dean cleared his throat and admitted that did make sense, but still gave Sam a horrified grimace at the thought of it while Garth went on with his story to return the subject to one everyone was comfortable with-- demons.

“Took about a week, but we sniffed ‘em out, found out who’d summoned ‘em, and rousted out a suburban coven of witches. One of them bought a grimoire at a used book store when she was down in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and she thought they’d found the key to eternal happiness. How rational people think demons have anything to do with happiness boggles me every time.”

“Yeah, it’s a common misconception,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes at Cas, who gave him a withering look.

“So we were down there about two weeks when one of the demons gave up fighting and tried to possess Nadia. She’s got the tattoo, so when that smoke couldn’t jump down her throat, it grabbed her up and threw her out a second story window.”

Penthia gasped and that, pulling her feet from the mud and hurrying over to stare down at the phone in Dean’s hand, distraught. Garth must’ve heard the commotion as well, because he didn’t even pause before jumping in with, “But don’t worry, she’s fine! Well, she’s gonna be fine.”

Sam tentatively reached out a hand to support Penthia, and she gratefully accepted, leaning against Sam’s shoulder with her eyes closed.

“She’s  _ gonna  _ be fine?” Dean asked, now that they at least had an answer.

“Yeah, she landed in a great big azalea bush. I exorcised that last demon, loaded Nadia up in my car and drove us back to the homestead. Bess patched her up and took care of her for the last couple weeks. We had her on some pretty heavy sedatives because every time she woke up she kept trying to leave. She was pretty well scraped up, and she dislocated her shoulder, but she wasn’t in any shape to fly. A couple days ago she was reading some local website from home and asked to use the phone to check her voicemail. She was just about frantic saying she needed to get home as soon as possible.”

“Is she still there with you?” Penthia asked, her voice remarkably calm considering the roil of emotions she must’ve been feeling.

“Well, hello,” Garth said, taken aback that anyone else had been listening in to their call. “I assume you’re the cause of Nadia’s distress, then?”

“I regret that I’ve caused her any undue distress when she should’ve been focusing on her own recovery, but yes, I suspect I am,” she replied.

Garth didn’t say anything for a moment, but from somewhere nearby Bess admonished him to be honest. He sighed and did as his wife suggested. “I guess that makes you Penthia. It’s nice to make your acquaintance, though I’m sorry for the circumstances.”

“As am I, Garth. Nadia has told me about you.”

“Yeah, well, until yesterday, I couldn’t have said the same,” Garth replied. “Guess I know I can trust her to keep a secret. Congrats, by the way. She’s a keeper.”

“Well, thank you,” Penthia said, looking to Sam and Dean to be sure that was the right thing to say. “Is she still with you, then? Can I speak with her?”

“I wish I could help, but she made me drive her back to Waterloo last night. Told me she was gonna fly halfway home this morning, refuel, catch some z’s, and then try to make it the rest of the way by sundown.” Garth paused for a second, and then added. “If everything went according to plan, she’s probably in the air right now.”

“That would explain why she’s not answering her phone,” Sam mused aloud.

“She’s on her way,” Penthia said, looking up to the sky and contentedly taking the few steps back to her lake to plant her feet in the mud and sit down in the grass.

Dean watched her go for a moment, and then remembered Garth was still on the line. “Guess that’s that taken care of. Thanks a lot, Garth.”

“No problemo. When you have a free minute or ten, give a call back and tell me all about how you all found yourselves on a hunt out in the middle of nowhere Maine.”

“Will do, buddy. Thanks again,” Dean replied.

“You take care of yourselves, and don’t be strangers,” Garth said, and then hung up.

The four of them stood there staring at each other, suddenly at a loss as to what to do now. Azeban ambled over to Penthia, and she scratched his ears absently while gazing dreamily up at the clouds painted pink and gold with the setting sun.

“I guess we’re not really needed here anymore,” Sam said eventually. “The spell’s lifted, we know Nadia’s safe, and she should be back any time now.”

Dean nodded along, thinking about his conversation with Cas. Well, a lot of his conversations with Cas, actually, but quite specifically the one where he’d promised to take Cas fishing. Now that the case was settled, he wasn’t sure they had a good enough reason to stick around.

“What should we do now?” Dean asked, quietly hoping that Sam would suggest sticking around for the rest of the week anyway.

It was Cas who made it absolutely clear that they still had one very important thing to take care of. He tore his gaze from the picture of peace that Penthia and Azeban made, and looked right into Dean’s eyes.

“I think we need to plan a wedding.”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean blinked at Cas a few times until the words sunk in and began to make sense. The second he put it together that Cas meant they needed to plan a wedding for Penthia and Nadia, his heart resumed beating as per usual.

“Right, yeah,” Dean said, and cleared his throat. “I guess it ain’t gonna be a traditional church ceremony.”

Sam cut him off before Dean could start babbling, crouching down in the grass beside Penthia to bring her into the conversation. She was one of the brides to be, after all.

“Would you like us to stay here and wait with you?” he asked, hesitant to break into her reverie.

She turned her relaxed smile on him and nodded. “I’d appreciate that, Sam. Thank you.”

Sam looked up at Dean, Cas, and Jack, a slight frown creasing his brow. “It’s nearly sundown now. If we wait here, we might not be able to make it back to the cabin by nightfall. We have no idea when Nadia will get here, and we could be waiting until well after dark.”

Penthia reached into a pouch hidden in the folds of her dress, pulled out a key, and handed it to Sam. “I understand that humans aren’t comfortable sleeping in the water, but I don’t think Nadia would mind if you needed to take shelter in her house for the night. There is a guest room, and a comfortable sofa.”

Dean and Sam exchanged an uncomfortable glance, and Dean looked down at his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. Not only did it sound like there wasn’t really enough space for four grown men to sleep comfortably, he’d really been looking forward to climbing back into bed with Cas again. That was really unlikely to happen if they had to sleep scrunched up on a sofa together. Luckily Sam spared him from actually having to figure out a way to politely decline her offer.

“We wouldn’t want to impose. I’m sure Nadia will be tired, and not exactly up to having a bunch of strangers camped out in her house.”

“I’m not a stranger,” Jack chimed in cheerfully, and then frowned. “But I understand what Sam is saying. Nadia will need her rest.”

Penthia frowned at this, conceding their points. “I wish there was something I could do to make her return easier instead of more complicated.”

Cas frowned, and then glanced at Dean before turning his attention to Sam. “Nadia already knows Jack. She might actually be relieved to find someone she’s familiar with keeping watch over Penthia. We could drive into town and bring back groceries and supplies for her, or at least something to tide her over until she feels up to going shopping for herself. If she’s been gone more than a month, I’m sure there’s nothing in the house for her to eat.”

“Yes, yes!” Penthia said, springing to her feet and grabbing Cas’s hand in both of hers. “Could you do that? That would bring her great comfort, I’m sure.”

Sam nodded slowly, giving both Dean and Cas a critical look, before finally relenting. “Yeah, it’s no problem at all. We should get going, then. It’s about an hour hike back to the cabin.”

“Less than that,” Cas replied. “Since we know where we’re going and won’t be constantly stopping to… look for clues.” He paused before adding the last bit, knowing full well that most of their pauses had nothing to do with the hunt and everything to do with their conversation.

Dean took that pause as an excellent sign that the honesty spell was wearing off. He wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Without that subtle pressure to speak his mind, he wasn’t sure if they’d ever be able to bring up any of those topics again. It didn’t lessen his longing or the floaty feeling in his stomach at the thought of getting another impressively restful night of sleep with Cas wrapped around him, but he’d spent so long repressing the hell out of those urges it had become his default state of being.

“Is that okay with you, Jack?” Sam said. “You wanna wait here, and we’ll bring back something for dinner in an hour or so?”

Jack nodded solemnly, taking his assigned duty to watch over Penthia with the highest degree of seriousness. “I would be happy to.”

“That’s wonderful,” Penthia agreed, finally dropping Cas’s hand. “I’m sure Nadia will be relieved to know how much you’ve done for us.”

Sam smiled at her, and then turned back to Jack. “Do you have everything you need in case of emergency?”

Jack dropped to one knee and slung his backpack to the ground in front of him, eagerly going through the drill that had become routine now. He unzipped the pack and did a full inventory. “Snacks, water bottles, knife, first aid kid, notebook and pencil, extra shirt, phone charger.” When he was finished he patted his coat pockets. “Phone, ID, and twenty dollars in case I need to buy anything.”

“Yeah, from all those roving merchants out in the forest,” Dean muttered, and Cas snorted out a laugh but still elbowed him in the ribs.

Sam nodded in approval. “Good. Keep your phone handy. I’ll call when I’m on the way back, and you should call me as soon as Nadia gets here.”

“Will do,” Jack replied.

“We’ll see you soon, Penthia,” Sam told her. “Is there anything special Nadia likes to eat? I can be sure we pick it up for her. Comfort food, you know?”

“Pizza,” Penthia replied without hesitation. “From the shop called The Leaning Tower.”

Sam smiled at the name, and nodded. “I’ll just order her usual then. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

With that, Sam led Dean and Cas back into the woods. Cas had been right, since they arrived back at the cabin in less than half an hour now that they had a firm destination and nothing else to distract them from their mission. Including awkward conversations.

When they got back to the cabin, Dean and Cas bypassed it on their way to the Impala, but Sam called out that he’d be right there and ran into the building. He emerged a minute later with both his and Jack’s duffels.

“I figure better safe than sorry,” Sam replied to Dean’s look of confusion.

“What, you gonna camp out on Nadia’s couch tonight?”

Sam shrugged. “I know Jack’ll probably offer to stick around and guard the place while Nadia’s still not feeling a hundred percent. If he stays, he’ll want his gear.”

“Yeah, that don’t explain your gear,” Dean replied, getting into the car and starting the engine.

Sam was quiet while Dean backed out and headed down the narrow road to the main highway. “I figure Nadia knew and trusted Jack while he still had his powers, you know? If anything tailed her home from Waterloo, I don’t want Jack to have to face it alone. It’s worth spending one night on a couch.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean conceded after a minute.

They found a grocery store and picked up a few staples-- bread, milk, cereal, fruit, coffee. Dean also picked up a case of beer and a pecan pie, as well as several bags of discount Halloween candy. Sam tried to talk him out of it, saying they weren’t likely to actually get trick or treaters at the cabin. Dean considered that a bonus, and threw another bag of miniature Milky Way bars into the cart for Jack.

Cas found the pizza restaurant on his phone and called in Nadia’s standing order, plus two additional pizzas and a side salad for Sam. By the time they were finished at the supermarket, their order was ready. It took a bit of searching to find the hidden turnoff to Nadia’s property in the dark, but after a call to Jack to get the exact coordinates from his GPS, they eventually managed it. Jack was just unlocking the front door of Nadia’s house when a pickup truck pulled into the yard, shining its headlights on the commotion on the porch.

“Nadia!” Penthia shouted with glee as she ran to the truck. “You’re home!”

A tall, dark-haired woman climbed warily out of the truck, only taking her eyes off the four men on her porch for a second to run them over Penthia, making sure she was unharmed. Dean knew the second Nadia recognized Jack among them. Her rigid posture relaxed and she finally took a deep breath, and then flinched at the pain in her shoulder. Penthia gently reached out to soothe the ache away, and Nadia smiled gratefully at her.

“I’m home,” she replied. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. It’s been a hell of a month.”

“I know,” Penthia replied, pulling her into a hug, being careful not to aggravate any of her injuries. “The Winchesters spoke to Garth this afternoon, and he explained everything. I’m so glad you’re home safe now.”

“The Winchesters?” Nadia said, releasing her hold on Penthia to walk over and meet her guests. “Hi there, Jack. I see you found your way back home, too.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

She looked over the rest of the Winchesters, sizing them up against every tall tale she’d ever heard about them. “I guess you’re here investigating the strange phenomenon that seems to have sprung up in town while I’ve been away. I take it you found the source and put everything to rights?”

They all nodded, but Cas replied, “Yes, and we’ve also brought pizza.”

A smile broke out across Nadia’s face at that. “Well then you’re definitely welcome to stay for dinner.”

Over dinner, they all got acquainted and caught up on Nadia’s exciting hunting trip. Penthia took care of her, much more at ease on land than she’d been before Nadia returned. Cas quietly explained to Dean that it was the force of their bond that allowed Penthia that freedom.

Over pie and coffee, Nadia offered to let them all stay. “I’m grateful that if any hunters came poking around Azeban’s mess, it was you lot.”

Across the table, in his own chair with his own slice of pie, Azeban chittered away in Nadia’s direction and Penthia translated it. Sam had been surprised when Nadia had invited the raccoon to sit at the table, but she’d laughed and reminded Sam that he wasn’t actually a raccoon. It was now Penthia’s turn to remind Nadia of that fact.

“Azeban might not be able to operate a telephone, but his powers are more than enough to prevent unwanted visitors from finding our home.”

Nadia nodded in approval at that, and grinned. “Serves ‘em right, if anyone with evil intent tried to find you here and ended up lost in the woods walking in circles for a week, trying to remember how they got there and where they thought they were going.”

“So now that you’re back,” Sam said, “I guess you two will be able to finish your bonding ceremony.”

Nadia looked over at Penthia and smiled, grabbing her hand. “How’s Wednesday sound for a wedding?”

Penthia returned her smile and squeezed her hand. “I can wait until Wednesday. That’ll give you time to recover from your ordeal.”

Nadia shook her head. “My ordeal has nothing to do with it. We just can’t get married without flowers and a cake. We’ve got plans to make tomorrow.”

“If you need any help, we’re at your service,” Jack said, eagerly offering.

“Well that’s settled then,” Nadia replied, standing up to clear the table before Jack jumped from his seat to do it for her. She slowly sank back into her chair, looking relieved. “So are you boys gonna stay with us a while? I’ve only got the double in the guest room, and the futon sofa in the living room. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we can manage for a few days if you don’t mind getting cozy.”

“We rented a cabin down the road for the whole week,” Sam replied. “It’s only a couple miles away, but Jack and I can stick around here for a day or two if you need the help around the house. I think Dean and Cas had some other plans.” Sam raised his eyebrows and gave them a critical look again.

“Yeah,” Dean replied slowly and then glanced at Cas who was looking back at him rather hopefully. He cleared his throat and slowly turned back to Sam, and then Nadia. “Yeah, I kinda promised Cas I’d teach him how to fish.”

Nadia slowly stood up again and made her way to the front hall closet. She returned a minute later with a couple of fishing rods and a tackle box. “You’ll have to source your own bait, but this should be enough to get you started.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, accepting the gear and handing the tackle box to Cas. “Guess we got a project for tomorrow, too, huh? Maybe we can catch something to cook up for dinner tomorrow night.”

Cas opened the box and examined the assortment of hooks, bobbers, and colorful lures with a sense of bewilderment. “You know how to use all of this? I didn’t realize that fishing was so complicated.”

Dean shrugged. “You could tie a worm to a string and toss it in the water and you might catch something. It’s as complicated as you wanna make it. And at least half of fishing is having an excuse to sit by the water on a nice day and just chill for a few hours.”

Cas looked pleased by this assessment, and smiled. “Then I think I’ll find fishing with you enjoyable.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Well, I guess Jack and I will stay here tonight, and help with the wedding planning tomorrow while you guys are off catching dinner.”

“No guarantees,” Dean reminded him. “But yeah, either way, we’ll handle dinner. You guys just worry about Wednesday.”

Penthia hugged each of them, and Nadia begged off hugs with her sore shoulder and ribs, but walked them to the door. Out on the porch, she held Dean and Cas back while Sam ran out to the car to fetch their bags.

“I can never thank you enough for coming to Penthia’s aid. After Wednesday, I won’t have to leave her behind again.”

Dean was taken aback. “You mean you’re gonna take her hunting with you?”

Nadia looked at him like he was daft. “Of course I am. She hasn’t been able to leave this lake in hundreds of years. She told me she’d never had a desire to leave it until she met me, and had to watch me leave over and over again. She’s more than capable as a hunter. She’s defended this lake and this land for centuries. Even fully human, she’s a better hunter than half the guys I’ve met on this job. And she wants to see the world. I can give her that. It’s nowhere near what she’s given me, but it’s what I have to give. I’d never hold that back from her.”

“Well, that’s good, then,” Dean replied after a frozen moment. “As long as you’re both happy with that.”

Nadia grinned. “Over the moon, actually. I won’t have to keep her a secret anymore, and she won’t have to be chained to her pond anymore. We won’t have to give up half our lives just to be together. We’ll get to live one big, full life on our own terms. Nothing’s more freeing than that.”

“Then we’re very happy for you,” Cas replied, looking right at Nadia despite being able to feel Dean’s gaze on the side of his face like the warmth of sunshine.

Dean snapped himself out of his daze and finally smiled at Nadia, as well. “Yeah.”

Nadia gave him a knowing look. “You might wanna think about what would make you happy, too. Just because we’re hunters doesn’t mean we have to deny ourselves whatever joy we can carve out of life. Hell, we deserve it after what we deal with. I mean, just look at Garth and Bess.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, picking up her lighter tone and running with it. “Yeah, gotta balance out the drudgery of scrubbing ghoul blood off my good hiking boots, I guess.”

Nadia reached out and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Now you two have fun fishing tomorrow. Catch us something worthy of a wedding feast.”

“If all else fails, we know where the grocery store is,” Dean joked. “One way or another, we’re having fish tomorrow night.”

“We’ll see you then,” she replied, and followed Sam back into the house.


	7. Chapter 7

The ride back to the cabin passed in less than five minutes of some of the most intense and uncomfortable silence Dean had spent in Cas’s company in years. It was nearly as awkward as that time Cas didn’t remember him. Maybe it was worse. Dean couldn’t pretend he was some stranger now, or chalk up Cas’s apparent discomfort to unfamiliarity.

They got out and Cas still had the tackle box, rode the whole way with it on his lap, but Dean had to go around to the trunk for the poles. Cas stood and waited by the front of the car, and then they walked to the front porch of their cabin side by side. They left the fishing gear on the picnic table outside, and Dean fumbled through his pockets in search of the key to the cabin while Cas waited patiently. He helpfully pulled out his phone and used it as a flashlight so Dean to see to unlock the door.

That was one thing about being the only people staying at the camp, the complete darkness after sunset, not another single light for at least a mile in any direction, combined with the towering, shadowy pines blotting out most of the stars. There weren’t any monsters lurking in the woods, but an uneasiness entirely unrelated to any looming sense of physical danger had settled over them both. Even the nearly full moon wasn’t enough to brighten the enclosed porch, and Dean was eager to get inside and turn on a light. It was a strange feeling for a hunter used to operating in the dark.

He flipped the light switch just inside the door, illuminating the sitting area with a single warm lamp that he only now noticed was patterned with a forest motif, the shade casting a spooky, distorted silhouette of trees against the walls. The tops of the shadowy pines crept up, bent across the sloped ceiling, like phantom trees bowing all around them, closing in on them from every side. For the first time since arriving in Maine, he was reminded of the night he’d stumbled through the portal from Purgatory, alone and terrified and miserable. It had taken months for that feeling of the never ending hunt and pervasive danger to fade away, and it hadn’t really completely disappeared until after Cas had come back to him.

And that was the thing, really. Cas always came back. Even when it should’ve been impossible, even when neither of them had really understood how it happened, or _why_ it happened. Cas always came back. Now that he was human, just like Penthia would be in a couple days, Cas had finally chosen not to leave in the first place. He chose to stay because he _could_ , and because it made him happy.

Cas stood quietly by the stove, waiting for the kettle to heat up so he could make himself a cup of that awful hot chocolate. Dean slipped off his coat and tossed it over the nearest chair, watching Cas dump packets of chocolate-flavored powder into mugs, wondering if he was really allowed to be this happy about tiny dehydrated marshmallows, and if he was really allowed to keep this absolute disaster of a fallen angel for himself.

That’s how he’d always thought of it, as the most selfish thing he could ever want. He’d been a large part of the reason Cas had ever fallen in the first place. And he knew he was at least partly to blame for a few of Cas’s more spectacular disasters. Then again, Cas was a big boy. He wasn’t a child, even if he didn’t always get human shit right on the first try. He definitely hadn’t chosen to fall and become human on a whim. He knew his own mind, knew exactly what he was giving up far better than Dean did, and he knew there was a serious likelihood that he’d be dooming himself to a lifetime of nothing more than riding around in the back seat of the Impala. Cas had still thought it was worth it.

Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes as Cas poured hot water over the powder and stirred both mugs until the little marshmallows floated to the top and began dissolving into a frothy, slimy skin on the surface of the cocoa. He crossed the room to claim his mug, figuring he’d need to work himself up to talking about the whole entire elephant. He’d start small, one part of the elephant at a time, even if there weren’t really any small parts to an elephant.

“You really gave up Heaven for chalk pellet marshmallows?” he asked, skimming said marshmallows out of his mug and dumping them in Cas’s.

“They’re not bad,” Cas replied, taking a careful sip before setting his mug down to cool for another minute. “But they are sweet, and very tiny. Humans seem to enjoy miniature things.”

Dean nodded, unable to argue with that.

“But I didn’t give up heaven for marshmallows.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean replied quietly, standing shoulder to shoulder with Cas as they stared down at the swirling chocolate. “So you really wanna go fishing tomorrow?”

Cas shrugged and took another sip of his cocoa. “I’d be happy with whatever you’d prefer to do. Fishing, going for another walk through the woods, driving into town to be sure the townspeople haven’t reacted poorly to the spell wearing off, or just sitting here quietly. I’d be content regardless.”

Dean somehow knew that was really, honestly the truth. Cas hadn’t needed a spell to push the words out of his mouth. He’d been telling him the same thing all along. Since he fell, at least. Probably long before that.

 _Much of the time, I’d rather be here_.

It was years ago now, and still every time he thought back on the time Cas had said them, he could feel the abject sense of defeat those words had been delivered with. If only he’d heard it at the time and pulled Cas aside, but he’d had bigger problems that afternoon, or so he’d thought.

_I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you._

That’s when the other shoe had dropped. Months later, when it was too late to fix anything. He’d laid in bed that night, unable to sleep, realizing just how badly he’d fucked up. But there’d always been another, bigger problem to deal with. There never seemed to be enough time to go back and ask for a do-over. The universe didn’t just hand those out.

But it _had_.

How many do-overs had they been granted? Dean lost count years ago. How many more might the universe give them before he fucking _made_ the time? Or before it was too late and he’d find himself sitting alone wishing he’d had the balls to say something when he’d had the chance, or when he’d find himself sitting alone in his own personal heaven with nothing to keep him company but his regrets?

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, blowing the steam off the top of his mug and taking a cautious sip. It was still too hot, and watery instead of creamy, and definitely not chocolatey enough. Dean added everything he’d need to make Cas a real cup of cocoa, with real marshmallows, to his mental shopping list. He knew it would make Cas happy. It was as easy as that, really.

“Cas,” he started, running through a dozen different things he’d wanted to say, things he’d been saving up for nearly a decade in some cases.

Cas slowly looked up at him when he didn’t say anything else right away, looking hopeful but wary. Dean just couldn’t brush this opportunity off the way he’d been doing for years now. He couldn’t crush that hope now that he’d let himself feel the truth. For some reason, the universe that had filled the vast majority of his life with unbearable misery had been throwing him this one bit of happiness over and over again. For once, Dean chose to catch it instead of letting it zoom by him yet again. He closed his eyes for a moment and willed himself to speak the words that would’ve rolled off his tongue without a thought if only the spell was still pushing him along. Somehow, it felt better, more real, to be saying them now, of his own free will, and without beating around the bush.

“With Sam and Jack gone for the night, will you still share the bed with me?”

Cas blinked at him a few times, like that hadn’t been at all what he’d expected Dean to say. His mouth opened and closed, testing out replies while he processed what he’d heard. Dean rushed on to give him an out if he needed it.

“It’s just I haven’t slept that well in years, and I know it’s because of you. I get it if you’d rather have your space or whatever, I mean, I know I can be an angry sleeper.”

Cas shook his head slowly, raising a hand to stop Dean before he could go on. “That was also the best night of sleep I’ve had, ever. I know I haven’t had that many nights of sleep to compare to, but I know it was entirely because you were there.”

“So this isn’t awkward, or anything…” Dean started, checking one last time that he and Cas were even in the same book, let alone on the same page.

“Remember, I fell from Heaven to be with you, Dean, however you would have me. If that means riding along with you and Sam on hunts, or teaching me about cars, or how to fish, or watching movies, or sharing your bed, I will be happy because I’m with you.”

Dean let that sink in, and then took a half a step closer to Cas. He could feel sweat breaking out on his palms and his heart thudding in his chest, but he refused to look away. All his focus went into getting the words out loud enough for Cas to hear, level and steady. “And would you be happy if I asked if I could kiss you?”

“Are you asking if you can kiss me, Dean?”

The shadowy forest that had felt like it had been closing in to smother them suddenly felt more like a comforting shelter, grown up around the walls to hold them safe. Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

Cas didn’t bother replying. He just leaned in, closed his eyes, and gently touched his lips to Dean’s. Dean’s breath caught in his throat as his heart hammered away through the most painfully honest kiss he’d ever received. Cas pulled back after a few seconds, as the most victoriously happy smile Dean had ever seen spread across his face.

“Yes, that makes me very happy,” Cas said.

That was all the evidence Dean needed. He flung his arms around Cas, hauling him in for an enthusiastic reply, letting his kisses speak the truth for him. It didn’t take long for Cas to reciprocate, holding Dean tight and pouring out every last drop of his own truth out in return.

Dean had built up a mountain-- ten years’ worth of pushing it all down-- and it took a while to let it all out. They stood by the counter for what felt like years, feeling every pent-up emotion freed to tell their story through the rise and fall of a thousand tides. They frantically devoured one another, ebbing to gentle caresses of lips, before another tsunami of overpowering need would crash over them. Eventually the storms passed, and they were left holding each other, as calm and content as an undine floating in the still water of her pond.

Dean rested his forehead against Cas’s and closed his eyes, just holding each other. “Guess we owe Sammy for thinking ahead, and working it out so we got the place to ourselves tonight, huh.”

Cas let out a low noise that was almost a laugh, and Dean leaned back far enough to see his face. He couldn’t pass up the chance. Cas’s grin settled into a soft, contented smile, and he pulled back a little bit more when he noticed their mugs still sitting on the counter by his elbow. His smile dropped into a frown as he reached out and discovered their chocolate had gone cold. He picked up his mug forlornly-- the marshmallows completely reduced to a slimy, grainy mass-- and sighed, dumping the cold liquid down the drain.

“We’ll pick up some of the good stuff tomorrow,” Dean told him, drawing his attention back with a hand on Cas’s cheek.

Cas nodded. “The prepackaged cocoa is perfectly acceptable when it’s hot, but so disappointing when it’s cold.”

Dean laughed at that. “Yeah, a lot of shit’s like that. French fries, tomato soup, showers…” At the thought of showers, Dean frowned and leaned his head over to sniff at his own shoulder. “Ugh, it’s been two days since we’ve had a decent shower, and running around in the woods didn’t do us any favors.”

“There’s a shower outside,” Cas reminded him.

“Yeah, a fucking _cold_ shower. _Outside_. Where it’s dark and cold.”

Cas shrugged. “There’s a bathtub, fully equipped with hot water.”

Dean knew that. He’d seen it. It was even one of those huge old claw-foot jobs. It would take forever to run enough water to fill it up, and they both really needed to get cleaned up if they were gonna share the bed again. At that thought, a hundred new connections zinged through Dean’s head, giving him ideas he wouldn’t have dared to think before they’d kissed. No, before they’d gotten so distracted making out that their cocoa had congealed. He was tentatively hopeful that he was even allowed to think such things now.

It was one thing to cope with their run-ins in the shower room back at the bunker, but it was another thing entirely to contemplate soaking in a tub. Even the thought of Cas showering in the same room had left him an awkward, sputtering mess just a few days ago, and now Dean was actually gonna ask Cas, to his face, if he wanted to share a bath. Together.

Naked.

Yikes.

Dean worked his way through that entire tangle of thoughts, and had just brought himself to take a deep breath before asking, when Cas raised an eyebrow, leaned in, and said, “The tub is probably large enough for both of us.”

Dean blinked at him and let his breath out in a rush, with the last bit of air tapering off into a giddy laugh. Cas frowned for a second, clearly thinking Dean was rejecting the idea, and took a half step back.

“I-I’m sorry, I d--”

That’s as far as Cas got in his attempted apology before Dean dragged him in for another kiss. He’d shuffled them several feet across the room toward the bathroom before he stumbled to a stop, breaking their kiss and drawing out a dissatisfied groan from Cas.

“You really offering, or just making a joke?” Dean asked, breathless, but suddenly less sure of himself.

Cas stared at him intently for a moment and then began pushing Dean’s flannel over his shoulders and down his arms.

“Not joking, then,” Dean replied, tossing his shirt at the chair he’d draped his jacket over and missing entirely as he pulled Cas by the hand into the bathroom. He bent over to shove the plug into the drain and then started the hot water running, testing it with his hand until he was satisfied with the temperature. He looked up to find Cas kneeling down to untie his boots, and did the same, catching the quick smile Cas flashed him before focusing back on his shoelaces. “So how long have you been accidentally on purpose crashing my shower time back at home?”

Cas stopped what he was doing and looked up at Dean, scandalized. “I-- I’ve never… I wouldn’t…”

Dean smiled, nodded, and shifted his weight to untie his other boot. “Okay, then, how long have you wanted to make that offer?”

“A very long time,” Cas began, getting to his feet and setting his boots aside. “But I’d resigned myself to waiting forever, if need be.”

“What? Why?” Dean asked, and then shook his head, understanding. “Never mind. I got my own bucket load of reasons. I told you once, and I’ll say it again. We’re a couple of dumbasses.”

Cas laughed out loud at that as Dean stood up, kicking his own boots against the wall and tossing his socks after them. “No, Dean. We had our reasons, and now we’re here. It worked itself out.”

“Yeah, but it coulda worked itself out years ago and saved us a hell of a lot of frustration.”

Cas shook his head and stepped up close to Dean. “Maybe, or maybe not.”

“Okay,” Dean conceded. Their lives had been anything but easy, and he couldn’t imagine any point where they honestly could’ve come to this moment sooner. It might’ve happened, but it wouldn’t have been anything like this. The universe may have kept throwing them together, but it had also had a nasty habit of tearing them apart again. Dean decided right there and then that the universe could go fuck itself for all he cared. They’d made their choices, and suffered the consequences, and finally everything had balanced out in their favor. “Sure, but we got a lot to make up for now.”

Cas smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “We should get started, then.”

Dean kissed him back and then slowly pulled off his t-shirt, breaking their kiss to pull it over his head. Cas followed suit, while Dean stood back to watch him, now that he was finally allowed to look. Well, he had to assume now that Cas had been inviting him to look a few times in the shower room, but Dean had given himself permission to look now, too.

The tub was filling up faster than he’d expected, or else Dean had just been that distracted by Cas, but he leaned over to shut off the taps and stood up to find Cas already undoing his belt.

“In a hurry there, Cas?” he asked, reaching out to slide a hand around the bare skin of Cas’s waist.

“Remember what happened to the hot chocolate?” Cas replied with a raised eyebrow.

Dean laughed and let go of him to work on getting out of his own pants. That’s how they found themselves in here in the first place. He realized he had that crappy cocoa and those nasty little marshmallows to thank for this, and he was torn between grudgingly loving the stuff or resenting it forever for making him think about them at a time like this.

He pushed them out of his mind. Between the steaming hot tub of water raising the temperature in the small room and the heat filling him at the sight of Cas slowly stripping off his jeans, everything else drifted away in the sultry haze. Cas caught his eye as he kicked off his jeans, and Dean remembered he was supposed to be doing something other than standing there staring at Cas’s mostly naked body. He got to work on his own belt while Cas took a turn staring.

As he stepped out of his pants and shoved them out of the way with his foot, Dean tried to pull Cas in for another kiss. Cas stopped him with a hand to his chest, a raised eyebrow, and a glance down at the tub. Dean reluctantly turned to peer down at the hot water, the tap dripping a few last drops and sending ripples out over the surface of the steaming water. It did look inviting, but that innocent looking bath was about to be the scene of the most dramatic turning point of his life. Even if they just sat in the water and washed up together, this would still be a life-altering soak. It was the _together_ part that was weighing on him with the force of that entire mountain of repressed desires.

“Dean, it’s okay,” Cas said, reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you want, it’s okay.”

He looked up from the water to Cas’s face, open and honest and waiting for him to get over himself. “Yeah. I just want you, Cas.”

Cas’s face brightened into a contented smile. “That’s convenient, because I’m right here.”

Without another word, Dean shucked off his boxers and slowly climbed into the tub, letting himself adjust to the heat of the water as he eased himself down. He looked up at Cas to see him still smiling, just in time to watch him strip off his own boxers. Dean devoured Cas with his gaze, filling in all the blanks that had been left entirely to his imagination until now. Cas stood by the tub, aroused enough to distract Dean from the reason Cas hadn’t joined him in the water.

“Dean, move your legs, please.”

Dean looked down to see that he hadn’t left enough room for Cas to step into the tub, and pulled his legs up to his chest leaving more than half the tub empty for Cas to climb into. To his surprise, Cas slid himself back, nudging Dean’s legs to the sides so he could recline against Dean’s chest. Dean just sat there and let Cas move him around until he was comfortable, like he was fluffing up the cushions on the sofa, and then wrapped his arms around his shoulders as Cas sighed and settled back against him.

It made for a dizzying array of sensations, the heat and the wet and the weight of Cas sliding against him. It was almost too much to take in; so many of his deepest desires that had played out in endless loops in his thoughts were now happening for real. He only had a split second to worry that Cas was pressed back against his growing erection before Cas sighed again and rolled his spine, sending a shiver up Dean’s back and another shot of heat to his groin.

“So, what, no more kissing?” Dean asked after a moment, noticing Cas had closed his eyes, utterly relaxed.

“We should fulfill the purpose of the bath first, don’t you agree?” Cas replied, opening one eye enough to reach out and pick up the shampoo.

Dean shrugged as much as he could without pushing Cas away. “I don’t know, I was under the impression that the purpose of the bath kinda was kissing. And whatever.”

Cas leaned forward enough to turn to look him in the eye. “And if we… _whatever_ , in the bath first, we’ll never get clean.”

Dean frowned at that, but nodded his reluctant acceptance. He glanced down at his lap and then slid forward enough to dunk his head under the water, startling Cas as he popped right back up and grabbed the shampoo bottle from him. Cas watched him pour shampoo into his hand and lather up his hair, and Dean watched Cas watch him. He made a quick but thorough job of it, and then dunked his head back under the water to rinse out the suds. When he’d resurfaced and wiped the soapy water from his eyes, it was to see Cas still sitting, unmoved, watching him.

“This whole get clean thing was your idea, Cas.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean for a moment and then, just as quickly as Dean had, he slid forward and then leaned back to wet his hair. Dean gasped as this unexpectedly put Cas’s head directly in his lap, his hair swirling beneath the water against his cock. He resisted the urge to push himself away, partly because there wasn’t really any place for him to go, already sitting back against the edge of the tub. Instead he braced his hands on either side and held on for dear life.

“Hey, whoa whoa whoa…”

Cas broke the surface of the water and held out his hand for the shampoo bottle, but Dean just sat and blinked at the sight of him, dripping wet and staring him down.

“Hand me Jack’s shampoo, Dean,” Cas said eventually.

Dean rolled his eyes, but instead of handing the bottle over, he poured another measure out into his own hand. “A, I don’t need to think about the kid right now. And second, just lean back. We can play beauty parlor. It’ll be more fun for both of us.”

“Beauty parlor?” Cas asked, completely confused for a moment before realization washed over him and his eyes widened as he complied with Dean’s request. “You mean like the hair stylist who was flirting with me. Yes, I understand now.”

“Okay, Cas,” Dean said, relishing the feel of Cas’s weight against him again and then slowly setting about massaging his scalp with the citrus-scented shampoo. “We gotta add a third bullet point to the list. I don’t need to think about anyone else getting to do this with you.”

Cas hummed his agreement and settled in, practically melting under Dean’s soothing fingers. “If it helps, this feels a thousand times better than the perfunctory shampoo she gave me. And the edge of her sink hurt the back of my neck. Your technique is far superior.”

Dean snorted, lazily continuing to work his fingers through Cas’s soapy hair and losing all track of time. Eventually Cas groaned, slid down his chest to rinse his hair again, and then resurfaced to smile at Dean as he grabbed the soap. He rolled the bar between his hands until he’d worked up a lather, and then handed it to Dean to do the same. Instead of scrubbing at his own skin, Cas reached out and ran his soapy hands over Dean’s neck and shoulders. The movement caught him off guard, and the bar of soap squeezed out of Dean’s hands and dropped to the bottom of the tub.

Cas laughed at the forlorn look on Dean’s face, but his laughter faded when Dean laid a soapy hand to the side of his neck. They stayed like that, frozen for a long moment, before Dean let the urge to pull Cas in for a kiss pass and began groping around the bottom of the tub for the lost soap.

“It’s still a fucking relief neither of us were dumb enough to take a bath this morning,” Dean said after he’d found the soap.

Cas laughed at that and accepted the bar from Dean after he’d finished with it. “And neither of us were dumb enough to think that showering outdoors in this weather was acceptable.”

“I was having a hell of a time trying to hold it together all day as it was, without having marinated myself in the truth serum water.”

Cas nodded, resuming his careful soaping of Dean’s arms while Dean simultaneously tried to scrub at his back, working his fingers into the muscles in a gentle massage, the way he had with Cas's shampoo.

“I was having similar difficulties. I wondered if it was a cumulative effect of exposure to the water, or if a single drop was enough to activate the spell which then intensified over time, but I believe my first assumption was correct.”

“Do I need to add work to the list of shit I don’t need to think about right now?”

Cas ignored him and went on with his line of thought. “Azeban bathed in the water, but he’s not exactly human, and it was his spell to begin with. He might be a trickster, but he’s also not a liar by nature. And Penthia had no reason to lie to us either, since she wanted us to help with her plight. She’s also not yet entirely human, and as a creature bound to that water and with some power over it, she may not have been affected either.”

“Really, Cas?” Dean said, digging his thumbs a little deeper into Cas’s lower back to work out a knot in the muscle there. “You’re gonna talk shop at a time like this? I’m just relieved we can finally take a nice hot, relaxing bath without worrying about contaminating ourselves with the honesty juice. I’ve been waiting all day to crawl back in bed with you, and fuck if it ain’t a thousand times better if we’re not covered in two days of ick when we do.”

Cas’s muscles tightened under his fingers and he turned around suddenly, sloshing water right to the rim of the tub.

“Hey, watch it, or we’re gonna slip and kill ourselves when we go to get out.”

“Dean,” Cas said. “The water.”

“What, you got some statistics on how many raccoons used it to wash up before we did?”

“No, Dean. It’s hot.”

Dean stared at him for a second. “‘Course it is. Cold baths aren’t exactly romantic, Cas. Kinda the opposite, actually.”

Cas tilted his head and squinted at that, derailed from his original point. “You ran us a hot bath because it’s romantic?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean replied, feeling strangely okay with admitting that out loud. “That was the idea, right? With all the kissing and the confessing out in the other room, I thought we were finally getting somewhere.”

Cas nodded, satisfied and relieved, but then shook his head. “Is that something you would’ve admitted to an hour ago?”

Dean gave the question serious thought. “You mean before or after the kissing?”

“Does it make a difference?”

Dean shrugged. “Before it would’ve been kinda presumptuous, but after? Maybe. It didn’t seem like it needed to be said. The kissing and dragging you in here seemed to make the point well enough. Then again, I probably would’ve said it was sexy instead of romantic.”

“So why did you say it was romantic now?”

“Because it’s true…” Dean said. His eyes went wide and he looked down at the soapy water in mild horror. “You don’t think the water in the hot water tank counts as water stored before the spell lifted, do you?”

Cas gave him a desultory look, and Dean sighed and ran a hand down his face.

“So we survived all fucking day, break free of the spell, and end up here of our own free will, only to get mind-whammied because I wanted to get you naked in the bath?”

Cas took a relieved breath at that. “We’re not _mind whammied_ , Dean. Especially not now that we know we may be compelled to be honest. The spell doesn’t force us to act against our own will, only to speak the truth. We know it’s happening, so we have a choice. We can stop, get out, and sleep separately tonight. We can choose to wait to do this until the spell wears off.”

Dean let a pained little sound escape his throat and shook his head. “I been waiting years for this, man. I couldn’t even count how many times I wanted to touch you, kiss you, just hold you. And we were doin’ all that before we got in the honesty bath.”

Cas nodded slowly. “So you don’t want to stop, even knowing you may say things you wouldn’t normally say without the spell’s influence? Or that I might say things you might not be comfortable hearing?”

Dean laughed at that. “You say things I’m not comfy with every damn day, Cas. Don’t mean I don’t like to hear ‘em. Especially now I don’t have to leave the room to stop myself from blurting out something I couldn’t take back.”

“What were you worried about saying?” Cas asked, wondering himself if this had truly been a good idea.

Dean, however, didn’t appear troubled in the least. “You know, you’d say something like how you appreciate me showing you something, or all that shit you were saying about my skill and whatever when we were washing the car the other day.”

“I always mean every word of what I say to you, Dean,” Cas replied earnestly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean replied, shaking his head and finally setting the bar of soap down. “But you’d say all that, and I’d still be waiting for you to pack up your shit and leave again. I could never figure out if you even wanted to stay at all, or if you were just waiting until you learned enough to be self-sufficient before taking off again. I didn’t know if telling you any of this would make you uncomfortable or if you’d just run off so you wouldn’t have to be near me anymore knowing it, so I settled for what we had because it was better than nothing.”

“So did I, Dean,” Cas replied, dropping his hand to Dean’s knee under the water. “I didn’t know if you’d ask me to leave if you knew how I felt about you, or if you always ran from the room because you’d seen the truth, and somehow knew already. I wondered if you were purposely trying to keep your distance.”

Dean picked up his hand and pulled Cas back into his lap, wrapping him in his arms. “I _was_ trying to keep my distance. It was too much, Cas. I couldn’t deal with it all. I was terrified if I told you I loved you, if you knew exactly how I wanted you, it would drive you away.”

Cas gasped and lifted his head from Dean’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “It wouldn’t have driven me away.”

“Yeah, and I don’t have to keep my distance now,” Dean replied.

“I hope you won’t, because this is everything I ever wanted when I fell.”

Dean nodded and tried not to let the truth of that overwhelm him. “I still don’t get it, but if this makes you happy, I guess I feel a little less guilty about the whole dragging you outta Heaven thing.”

“You didn’t drag me, Dean. I fell willingly, because I love you, too. I want to do everything I can to make you as happy as you’ve made me.”

Dean smiled at him, and it felt strange and freeing and wonderful, not even a hint of panic or worry or fear to make him doubt. “We should’ve been doing this by candlelight,” he said, and tilted his head up for a kiss, but Cas dodged him and wriggled out of his arms, leapt from the tub and flung open the door. “Cas? What’s wrong?” Dean called out as Cas sloshed and dripped his way through the living room while a chilly breeze invaded the small bathroom.

Cas returned a few seconds later, still dripping but also shivering now, his hands filled with half-burned stubs of ritual candles and a book of matches from the bag of weapons and supplies they’d left on the sofa. He kicked the door shut and began setting the candles around the edge of the tub. After he’d gotten a couple of them lit, he turned off the light and climbed back into the tub with Dean, shivering even more as he lit the rest.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Dean told him as he scooted up with Cas in his arms to turn on the tap and run more hot water into the tub. “You’re freezing now. We gotta warm you back up.”

Cas hummed. “That sounds pleasant, yes. But isn’t it much nicer by candlelight?”

“If you say so.”

“ _You_ said so, Dean.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to listen to everything I say. And banged up ritual candles shouldn’t be romantic. I think one of ‘em’s got a bloodstain on it.”

Cas shrugged against his chest, his shivers fading back into relaxed contentment. “You love it anyway.”

Dean hugged Cas tighter and kissed his temple. “Yeah, I do.”

He regretted having to let go of Cas to shut the water off again, but Cas slid forward and did it for him. Instead of sliding back to his previous place, he crawled up Dean’s lap and straddled his thighs. “I think we’re clean enough now.”

“That’s good,” Dean agreed, looking up at Cas as he slowly slid his hands down his back. “Because I really couldn’t wait much longer to kiss you again.”

Cas took that for the invitation it was. He rested his hands along Dean’s jaw and gently leaned in for a kiss. It started out slow, but within minutes they’d worked back up to the intensity that had driven them to the bath in the first place.

Dean slid down in the water until Cas was mostly submerged again. He sighed as Dean’s hands searched lower and settled on his ass, squeezing before holding him in place while Dean ground his hips up against him. They slid together in the soapy water, and Cas stretched out his legs to find more leverage to press his weight down on Dean. “You were right about the candles,” Cas said as he rocked his hips down again. “You look beautiful in this light.”

“So do you, Cas,” Dean replied, reaching up to touch his face and run his fingers through his hair. “You’re practically glowing.”

“Humans glow with happiness, or so I’ve heard.”

“Not like this, Cas,” Dean replied. “This is different. Maybe it’s just because I’ve wanted this for so long and was convinced it was never gonna happen. I’m still not sure this isn’t just a really vivid dream.”

Cas kissed him again, gently biting at his lower lip until he made a little noise of pain. “Are you still not convinced this is real? That I want you just as much and feel the same about you as you do about me?”

Dean blinked up at Cas. “I believe you, but I’ll believe you a hell of a lot more in the morning.”

Cas nodded slowly. “I’ll still be here in the morning. Well, not in the bath. My skin is starting to feel strange. I want to stay here with you, but I’m beginning to think we need to dry off soon.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers together, frowning at the odd texture of his wrinkly, waterlogged skin.

“Do you wanna finish this here, or move it to the bedroom?” Dean asked, rolling his hips again.

Cas frowned at him. “I brought candles in here specifically for this purpose, Dean. I thought you were enjoying it.”

“Oh, I am. I feel like a fucking princess. But if you don’t touch me soon, pruney fingers and all, I’m gonna explode.”

Cas looked at his fingers again, and then back at Dean as he carefully cupped Dean’s cheek and then slid his hand down Dean’s neck and shoulder. “Does this help?”

“It feels incredible,” Dean said, a shiver running down his spine. “But nowhere near enough. Do you trust me?”

“That’s a ridiculous question, Dean.”

Dean surged up to kiss him, wrapping an arm around Cas’s shoulders and rolling him in the water like a crocodile with his prey. Now that he was on top, with Cas clinging to him like a startled octopus, Dean ran his hand down Cas’s chest, across one nipple as Cas loosened his hold and settled back in the water. He kept his eyes on Cas’s face as his hand drifted lower, letting himself float just an inch above Cas so he could reach between them and brush his fingers over Cas’s cock. Cas’s breath hitched and he groaned.

“You’re right, that’s nowhere near enough.”

Dean grinned at him, and then dropped down for a kiss as he wrapped his hand around both of them. He rolled his hips and deepened their kiss as Cas moved with him, instinctively matching Dean’s rhythm. He wrapped his arms around Dean, his hands grasping at Dean’s back and winding up into his hair. They quickened their pace until there wasn’t enough air left for words and the quiet confessions between kisses lapsed into groans of pleasure as they came tumbling one after the other.

Dean let himself sink down in the water, nuzzling his face into the side of Cas’s neck as they both tried to catch their breath. Cas gently ran his hands up and down Dean’s back, stirring up little splashes and waves, his eyes closed as he planted little kisses on the side of Dean’s head he could reach without moving. After a few minutes, Cas began fidgeting under him, and Dean groaned.

“The water’s cooling off, Dean.”

Dean sighed and kissed Cas’s neck. “Yeah, it is. Let’s go get warm.”

He slowly got to his knees, stopping only to give Cas a kiss on the lips before they helped each other up and out of the tub. Cas bent over to pull the stopper out and let the last of the bespelled water drain away.

“So, how long do you think we’re gonna be feeling the effects of that?” Dean asked, handing Cas a towel.

Cas shrugged and roughly dried his hair. “My guess is that it should fade with the sunrise. We could try telling a lie to test it and make sure.”

“I don’t wanna lie to you, Cas,” Dean said, stepping up close so he could rest a hand on Cas’s hip.

Cas smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss before bending down to dry off his legs and feet. “I don’t want to lie to you, either. But we should try it periodically, just to see if we can. It doesn’t have to be a significant lie.”

Dean thought about that for a moment while he finished drying off, but the spell wouldn’t let him even think up a lie, let alone speak one. He shook his head as he hung up his towel to clear away the static fuzziness fighting the spell had left him with. “This sucks. Do you know how much of our job involves lying? Even just about small shit. We’d have been fucked if all four of us had been Obi Wan’ed this morning. How the fuck did Sam and Jack manage to function? Neither of them were this bad off.”

“Hmm, we did spend an exorbitant amount of time in the bath. Nearly an hour, I’d guess. And Jack probably found it easier to push against the spell just because he doesn’t have as much emotional baggage to keep buried.”

“Perks of being a toddler, I guess,” Dean said. “And Sam took the freeze-your-nuts-off shower, so I doubt he luxuriated in the icy water very long. Okay, now I feel a little better about how hard it hit us.”

Cas nodded at that. “I’m going to turn on the light so I can blow out the candles.”

Even knowing it was coming, Dean blinked at the sudden brightness, and helped Cas extinguish and collect all the candles. They dropped them off in the weapons bag on the way to their bed.

“We’ll deal with our clothes tomorrow. Not like Sam and Jack will be back here anyway,” Dean said, climbing under the covers and pulling Cas down after him. “They’re planning a wedding and we’re supposed to be going fishing.”

Cas snuggled up to Dean, all the anxiety and awkwardness of the previous night washed away. “Do you not want to go fishing?”

Dean shrugged, letting Cas get comfortable before settling his arm around his waist and pulling him in closer. “I’d be happy just staying here like this.”

“We can’t lie in bed all day, Dean.”

“We could try,” Dean said, kissing Cas’s forehead and then sighing. “But yeah, you’re right. We still gotta go into town to get bait. And the best fishing’s early in the morning. Maybe we could put it off a couple days, until after the wedding. We can pick up bait tomorrow so we can just roll outta bed and go down to the lake at sunrise.”

Cas nodded and yawned. “I don’t know what time it is, but the idea of getting up before sunrise sounds particularly terrible right now. This is everything I’d wanted last night but was too terrified to ask for. I don’t think I want it to end that soon.”

“Cas,” Dean said, and waited for Cas to look up at him. “This ain’t gonna end, you hear me? Even when we get up tomorrow, this…” he gave Cas a squeeze, “this is forever. You understand?”

Cas took a deep breath and nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He could barely see it in the dark, but he knew Dean was smiling when he kissed him. They traded little truths between kisses until they finally drifted off.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean had been awake for a few minutes before Cas finally stirred. Somehow during the night they’d ended up spooning, and Dean hadn’t wanted to move while Cas was curled around his back, hugging him like a teddy bear. The indecision and nerves from the previous morning were completely gone now, as expected. He’d only had one moment of panic when he’d first woken up and realized he was naked before the memories had flooded back and he relaxed into Cas’s embrace.

He couldn’t see a clock from where he was pinned practically against the wall by Cas’s body, but it was clear from the quality of light through the window that it was long past dawn. Which meant if Cas’s theory was right, the spell should be broken now. Dean didn’t let that worry him. It’s not like he could ever go back to hiding the truth from Cas, spell or no spell.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said, stretching his back and then kissing the back of Dean’s neck. “Did you sleep well?”

“Even better than last night, yeah,” he replied, rolling over in Cas’s arms. “You?”

“I feel exceptionally refreshed.”

“So, no regrets now that the sun’s shining?”

Cas frowned and looked at him for a moment. “Are you capable of telling a lie now?”

Dean just blinked at him and thought about it for a second. “I’d love to have a big plate of brussels sprouts for breakfast. Screw pancakes.”

Cas snorted and then became serious. “I take that as a yes. So you aren’t about to take back everything that happened last night?’

“No fucking way,” Dean replied, leaning in to give Cas a kiss. He stopped a few inches short of his goal and opened his eyes to look into Cas’s, suddenly feeling uncertain again. “Uh, you’re not either, right?”

“No fucking way,” Cas replied, and closed the distance between them.

It was a long time before they got out of bed.

 

“You think we should check in with Sam and Jack?” Dean asked when they eventually got dressed. “See if they need any help with the wedding plans?”

“I think they’ll be fine for a few hours.”

“It’s probably been a few hours already, Cas. It’s almost noon.”

Cas just shrugged, pulling on his jacket. “Then they’re probably considering taking a break for lunch. Which we should also do. I would like to drive into town to follow up with Chief Riordan. She might be relieved to know that her town shouldn’t suffer any lasting effects.”

Dean laughed as he pulled on his own jacket and checked all his pockets to make sure he had everything he’d need. “You don’t think Sam would like to tell her himself?”

“I think Sam might feel more comfortable avoiding her if at all possible. I believe in the light of day he might feel he’d been a bit forward with her yesterday.”

“Yeah he put his big moosey hoof in his mouth. You’re right, though. We shouldn’t leave her hanging with the scare we gave her about long-term risks and shit.”

They walked out onto the porch and Dean locked the front door as Cas examined the fishing rods on the picnic table out front. Dean noticed what he was doing and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steer him off the porch and out to the car. “I promise I won’t forget the bait. We’ll spend the whole day fishing on Thursday. If you like it, we can do it again Friday. We’re not in any hurry to clear outta here, so we’ll stay as long as you want, okay?”

Cas smiled at him, sliding his arm around Dean’s waist and letting himself be led. “That sounds wonderful. I’m beginning to regret that we only rented the cabin for the week.”

“Something tells me we might be able to talk the owner into an extra couple days if you want.” Dean said, regretfully separating from Cas so they could get in the car.

“What about Sam and Jack? They may not want to stay beyond the wedding, and we have to assume that they’ll be returning here with us tonight now that Penthia and Nadia are settled.”

Dean sighed, feeling disappointed for the first time all day as he slid behind the wheel and pulled the door shut a little too hard. “We’ll worry about that later. I promised you fishing, I’m gonna take you fishing one way or another, okay? But right now, we gonna get some lunch, now that it’s safe to eat in town again. Let’s see if we can find a decent burger.”

Dean cruised the town looking for a good place to stop for lunch and noticed Nadia’s truck parked outside a diner just off the main drag. He figured if it was the sort of place Nadia would head to on her first day back in town after a couple months, then it was probably the kind of place a person could get nostalgic about. Since they didn’t have any better recommendations to follow, they decided to pull in and given the place a try.

It was a little hole in the wall cafe with the menu hand written on chalkboards above the counter and a row of booths along the opposite wall. There wasn’t much more to the place than that, aside from the crowd and the fantastic aroma of grilled meat and greasy potatoes. Dean’s mouth started watering the moment he’d opened the door.

He spotted Sam first, squeezed into one side of a booth opposite Jack and Nadia. It looked like they hadn’t been there long. They had drinks, but were still waiting for their food. The cook yelled out FIFTY FIVE as Dean walked past, and someone from another table got up to retrieve their order.

“We’re fifty seven,” Sam said when he saw Dean and Cas approaching the table. “We weren’t expecting to see you guys in town today. I thought you were gonna go fishing.”

Dean shrugged and Cas explained. “We decided we’d rather sleep in than go in search of bait first thing this morning.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna pick up a tub of worms and try to get some fishing in on Thursday.”

Sam nodded at that, looking like he had a thousand questions to ask but remembered that most of them weren’t suited to the public venue, so there was a layer of quiet suffering about him as well. “If you guys wanna order, we can make room for you.” He made a valiant effort to slide over and make room, but the booth was just too narrow.

“Nah, we’re gonna eat quick and then head over to the police station to give the chief the all clear. Gotta run a few other errands, too,” he added, glancing at Cas and then refocusing on the table. “So how’s the wedding planning going?”

“Great,” Nadia replied with a grin. “We’ve just been to the bakery. Ordered a gorgeous cake we’re gonna pick up at five, and then we’re headed to the florist. We’re gonna have a traditional thanksgiving dinner, because that’s Penthia’s favorite.”

“Sounds good to us, right Cas?”

“I’ve never had a thanksgiving dinner before. It sounds exciting and appropriate,” Cas replied.

“Well now,” Nadia said, smiling up at Cas, “this trip is full of firsts for you, isn’t it?”

Cas nodded sincerely. “And I’m thankful for every one of them.”

“You want the usual?” Dean asked him. “I’m gonna order for us.”

“That sounds perfect, Dean.”

Dean left Cas talking with Nadia, Sam, and Jack, and ordered them a couple of cheeseburgers. By the time he’d finished, Sam had come to collect their food, so he and Cas claimed two seats at the counter to wait for theirs. They were almost done eating when Jack walked past and said goodbye. Nadia followed right after him and asked them how they liked the burgers.

“I’d been craving one of these for weeks,” she said, grinning at their obvious enjoyment. “Now maybe if I can’t get you boys to come visit us once in a while, I can bribe you with one of Dooly’s burgers.” She winked at the cook who’d overheard her comment, and they both laughed as she headed for the door.

Sam lingered behind for a moment and bent over to talk to Dean. “You guys still bringing fish for dinner? Because we got everything else at the store this morning.”

“Yeah, we got it covered. We’ll be over around six.”

Sam slapped Dean on the shoulder and nodded. “See you guys then. Have fun today.” And then he walked off with a weird smile on his face.

“What the hell is he up to,” Dean asked, watching him leave.

“He likely suspects that there’s something going on with us,” Cas replied, and then ate his last fry.

Dean grunted at that and threw enough money on the counter to cover their bill. “If that’s true, then he’s taking it pretty well.”

“I suppose we’ll find out at six.”

The police department was only a few blocks from the cafe, so they decided to walk. Along the way they passed an art supply store, and Dean couldn’t keep himself from laughing at the flashy display of glittery rainbows covering everything from posterboard to furniture to dolls in one of the windows. He related his previous fear of becoming one of the dramatically self-outed people in town, and the restraint it had taken to avoid starting a one-man parade down main street. Cas, of course, found this hilarious. Without the spell bearing down on him anymore, Dean thought it was pretty hilarious, too.

Business at Town Hall was back to normal. Chief Riordan was in her office signing off on some paperwork, but another deputy greeted them when they walked in.

“Yeah, we’re hoping the Chief had a spare minute to chat,” Dean said, pulling out his CDC badge and flashing it at the deputy. “We were here yesterday about some testing we were doing up at the lake, and we’re back to report our results.”

The deputy’s eyes went wide and he nodded, waving them behind the desk as he knocked on the chief’s open door. She looked up from her paperwork, surprised to see them back so soon.

“Hi guys, come on in,” she said, standing up and waving at two chairs in front of her desk.

Dean dithered over whether to shut the door or not, but the eavesdropping deputy was probably just as concerned as the chief was about the potential fate of the town after the last few weeks, so he left it open and followed Cas to the chairs.

“Chief Riordan, thanks for seeing us again,” Dean said as they sat.

“It’s Deedee, and I’m just hoping you got some good news for us.”

“As a matter of fact, we do,” Dean replied, and then ceded the floor to Cas just like they’d planned.

“The fallen leaves gave us our biggest clue,” he started. “We found a small patch of an invasive fungus around the west edge of the lake, similar to ergot in cereal grains, with a milder effect. We neutralized the fungus last night, and everyone who was showing symptoms should make a full recovery within twenty four hours.”

“Really?” Deedee asked. “It was all that simple?”

Cas shrugged. “Sometimes we get lucky and get to the heart of the problem on the first try.”

Deedee nodded slowly, letting that sink in.

“Also, there’s a chance that any of the contaminated water that may have been stored could still cause some mild, temporary issues if it’s ingested. If you see a resurgence of symptoms, you should advise the victim to wait a day or two and then bring their complaints back to you. It may have just been a stray ice cube or a pitcher of iced tea that was made up with the contaminated water.”

“It’s not dangerous for people to expose themselves again, is it?”

Dean shook his head. “No, not dangerous in itself, but you might want to go easy on folks for all the unusual behavior over the last few weeks. Let self-reported minor crimes slide. We’ll leave it up to you if you wanna make a public announcement, but this might be one of those things that everyone would prefer to collectively forget, you know?”

Deedee nodded, considering their advice. “I’m surprised the bio students didn’t pick up on that fungus when they were out here a few weeks ago.”

Cas shrugged. “It’s not something commonly tested for, and if you’re not looking for it specifically, it’s easy to overlook.”

“Yeah, agents Stark and Parker are out there now making sure it won’t resurface next fall, but we’re confident you won’t have any further troubles.”

“Well that is good to hear. I guess we can get back to business as usual then,” she said, standing up and offering her hand. “Thanks for figuring it out before anything truly awful happened.”

Dean stood and shook her hand. “It was our pleasure. You’ve got a lovely little town here. It was nice to get away from the office for a few days for something this easy to solve.”

“Yes, we can’t thank you enough,” Cas added, shaking her hand as well. “It proved to be a fascinating study.”

After leaving the police station, Dean stopped on the sidewalk and pulled out his phone.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean just shook his head, finishing his text with a wicked little smile on his face as he hit send and slid his phone back into his pocket. “Nah, just letting Sam know that Chief Deedee didn’t even mention him. Guess she’s all business when she’s not truth-whammied.”

Cas opened his mouth and then just nodded in understanding. “It sometimes seems easier to keep the truth bottled up, but there is a special freedom to being able to speak it aloud.”

Dean resisted the impulse to pull Cas in for a kiss at that, because that was one truth he never wanted to repress again. But they were just outside the town hall, and he was a professional enough to maintain his cover at least until they’d walked a few blocks out of the direct line of sight. He settled for smiling fondly and clapping his hand on Cas’s shoulder. If he let his hand linger a bit too long and slowly drag its way down Cas’s back, well that wasn’t entirely unprofessional at least.

They started out walking back toward the car, but since they still had hours to kill before they had to be back at Nadia’s, Dean took a detour and decided to walk around downtown a bit more. They stopped in a few of the little shops so Cas could look at touristy souvenirs. He talked Dean into buying him a magnet shaped like a lobster with MAINE painted across its tail, and little springy claws and legs that would bounce around whenever someone opened the fridge. When he tried to buy a t-shirt with a puffin on it for Jack, Dean told him that Jack could buy his own souvenir with the emergency twenty dollar bill he had in his pocket if he really wanted one. Cas sighed but let Dean lead him out of the shop anyway.

On the way to Nadia’s, they stopped at a liquor store for a case of beer, the general store for an assortment of bait, and then the fish market. They ended up buying six lobster tails instead of fish, figuring that with all the advice the general store proprietor gave them, they were bound to catch something themselves in the next few days. And they were in Maine, after all. They had to have at least one lobster dinner.

Nadia looked horrified when Cas informed her that the large box he was carrying contained lobsters.

“I don’t think I have a pot big enough to do six whole lobsters,” she said, pulling out the largest pot she owned and setting it on the stove. “If I’d known you wanted lobster, I would’ve had Dooly cook ‘em up for us.”

Cas set the box on the counter and lifted the lid to show her the six perfectly cooked lobster tails inside. “Dean asked the man at the fish market how to prepare them, and told him we were visiting from about as far from an ocean as you could get. He took pity on us and prepared them while we waited.”

“Yeah, he even gave us butter,” Dean said, pulling the tub of warm liquid out of a bag and setting it on the counter before heading to the fridge with the beer.

“Well, now,” Nadia said, looking them over slyly and then putting the huge cooking pot away. “You boys know how to wiggle your way outta anything, don’t you?”

“Hell, Heaven, Purgatory, at least three alternate universes, 1944, 1861, Scooby Doo, a time loop, and the Empty,” Sam replied, laughing at the look on Nadia’s face as he carried the big bowl of salad out to the table.

“Hey, you left off the 1970’s,” Dean reminded him, opening a beer for Cas and then for himself. “Don’t forget the 1970’s.”

“We’re all trying to forget the 1970’s, Dean,” Sam called back.

“So how many of those stories I heard about you are true?” Nadia asked, looking a bit preemptively shell-shocked at what she suspected the answer would be.

Dean shrugged, but Cas replied, “Probably all of them.”

Nadia shuddered and went back to slicing a loaf of French bread so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone or think too hard about the lives these men had led, and changed the subject to something she could handle over dinner. “Thank you, by the way. Garth told me you stopped those Brits. If it wasn’t for you, I might not have ever made it back here after last year.”

Dean nodded solemnly. “You got Sammy to thank for that, mostly. He led that raid along with Jody Mills.”

“Well I’ll be sure to thank him specifically.”

“Where’d you go?” Dean asked, and then cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, my mom said those guys were keeping tabs on all of us, tracking hunters wherever they went. Just wondered where you found to hide out”

Nadia finally turned and grinned at him. “I flew up north, hid out on a little island off the coast of Labrador. Got an emergency cabin up there for just in case. I put the pontoons on my plane, made a water landing, and parked her in a really well-hidden inlet. Even if they tracked me there, it’s not like it’s easy access, and I would’ve seen ‘em coming for miles. And I would’ve made a quick escape.”

Dean snorted at that. “Where do you even run and hide from there?” He’d meant it as a rhetorical question, but Nadia answered.

“Greenland. Got an acquaintance who offered to take me dogsled sightseeing. Glad I never had to take him up on it.”

It was Cas’s turn to laugh. “There’s not a lot to see. It’s mostly ice.”

“It’s beautiful from the air, and I’ve stopped there long enough to refuel more than once, but yeah, I’ll take a pass on parking myself in the middle of it.”

After dinner they finalized the plans for the following morning’s wedding. While Nadia and Penthia corralled Jack and Cas to help them decorate the bench and shelter out by the pond with flower garlands, Sam pulled Dean aside under the pretense of helping him dig the ladder out of the storage shed out behind the house. Without preamble, as soon as they were out of earshot of the others, Sam launched into what had to be a well rehearsed speech.

“So Jack and I offered to stay here again tonight.” He held up a hand when Dean frowned, and didn’t let him get a word of complaint in edgewise. “Nadia’s actually glad for the company. She didn’t really want to be alone while she’s still recovering, and Penthia still has to go back to her lake tonight.”

Dean answered slowly. “Okay.”

“Tomorrow night after the wedding, we’re gonna camp out with Azeban down by the pond to guard the house. We didn’t want to intrude on their, uh, wedding night, but between Nadia’s injuries and it being Penthia’s first night as a human, we didn’t want to take any chances on leaving them exposed like that.”

Dean just continued nodding, waiting for Sam to get through his entire prepared spiel. He was obviously working up to something, and Dean wasn’t entirely sure he was gonna like it.

“Thursday morning, they’re both flying out. Penthia wants to go somewhere exotic for their honeymoon, and since she’s never been further than a few hundred yards away from this lake, pretty much anywhere’s exotic to her. I offered to give them a tour of the bunker if they were ever in the area, and they were both pretty quick to accept. So Jack and I were gonna fly home with them and they were gonna stay for a day or two before flying out again.”

“You are?” Dean asked, trying to imagine how much worse it would be flying in that tiny toy plane compared to the commercial jet that had nearly killed him all those years ago. “Why would you wanna do that?”

Sam shrugged, but couldn’t look him in the eye. “You and Cas wanted to stick around and do some fishing, right? Nadia offered you guys the use of her house for as long as you wanted to stay. We thought you two might like a little time alone, you know, uh… now that you seem to have…”

And there it was, the part of this ordeal Dean had been dreading. He sighed and rolled his eyes at Sam’s antsy avoidance of the last few bits of elephant he and Cas hadn’t finished sweeping up yet.

“You mean now that we finally figured ourselves out?” Dean offered. “Got our heads outta our asses and replaced ‘em with each other’s dicks? Is that what you meant?”

The look of horror that spread over Sam’s face had Dean cracking up.

“Why did you have to say it that way?” Sam replied, abject misery in his voice. “I didn’t need to hear it that way.”

“I wanted to see that look on your face,” Dean replied. “It was worth it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and went back to looking for the stepladder. “But you are together now, right? Did you get a big dose of honesty water and accidentally confess your undying love?”

“No, that actually happened after the spell broke the first time.”

“The first time? What are you talking about?”

“Heh, when we got back to the cabin last night, we got to talking. And that led to, uh, other things. And we may have spent an hour or so in the bath marinating ourselves in honesty soup.”

Sam turned around and gave him an appalled look, and it was Dean’s turn to hold up his hand to stop him from jumping to conclusions.

“The hot water heater was full of spell water. We realized it pretty quick, but we’d already said what we needed to before we were dosed, so we decided not to waste a perfectly good bath, okay?”

Sam nodded slowly, blew out a breath, and then to avoid looking at his brother for a few seconds he looked up at the rafters, where he immediately spotted the ladder. They slid it down while sending only a minimal number of spiders scurrying for cover, and Sam didn’t even bother to tease Dean for shrieking when one of them ran across the back of his hand in its haste to escape.

“So you got anything to say about all this?” Dean asked, stopping Sam from leaving the shed with a hand to his elbow.

Sam just smiled and shook his head. “Congrats, man. It’s about fucking time.”

Dean took a big relieved breath and nodded. “Thanks. But I think we’ll wait until we get back to the cabin anyway.”

Sam made a disgusted noise and dragged the ladder out of the shed while Dean trailed behind him cackling.

The next morning, Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack stood out on the lawn in their fed suits, and Azeban sat on the grass beside the little bench. The shelter above was draped with laurels woven through with an array of pink and white flowers. The bench had been adorned with cushions and a small altar set up just in front of it.

Nadia came out of the house wearing a long white dress that was probably not heavy enough for the chilly mid-morning air, and a heavy blue plaid shawl to keep warm. At the same moment Penthia emerged from her pond wearing a similar dress but showing no signs of being uncomfortably cold as she magically dried herself off for the final time. They both had flowers woven into their hair and were practically floating rather than walking toward one another across the lawn. Dean took his attention off their blissful faces long enough to glance at Cas, who was also giving him that same elated look. His heart fluttered in his chest and he impulsively reached down to grab hold of Cas’s hand.

Penthia reached out both hands toward Nadia, and Nadia grabbed them and led her to the bench. When they sat, they didn’t release each other’s hands, but turned to Azeban who stood up on his hind legs and chittered at them for a few minutes, waving his little paws around for emphasis. Penthia nodded along, and Nadia just smiled at her, knowing what Azeban would be saying even if she didn’t understand his language.

Sam, Jack, Cas, and Dean just stood to either side, bearing witness to this ritual none of them fully understood, but were still humbled and honored to be part of. Azeban turned to the altar and pulled out a long length of cord wound through with vines and flowers. Penthia nodded at Nadia and they lowered their clasped hands so that Azeban could wrap the cord around their wrists, joining them together. When that was done, Azeban sat back on his haunches as Penthia and Nadia quietly exchanged the vows they’d written committing their lives to each other. When they were finished, they kissed. It wasn’t just a kiss, but the sealing of their bond.

Penthia pulled away breathless and in awe, not just overcome with love, but completely transformed by that love. A joyful tear ran down her cheek that Nadia instinctively reached up to wipe it away, forgetting their hands were still tied together. They both laughed as they awkwardly held their joined hands to Penthia’s cheek, drying her tears the human way.

“We’ll never be parted again,” Penthia said when she’d recovered.

Nadia just smiled and nodded, too overcome to say anything.

Azeban reached up again and unwound the cord from their hands, and then handed them each a narrow gold ring. The exchange of rings wasn’t part of the undine bonding ritual, but the symbol of their entirely human bond. They slid them on each other’s fingers before finally standing up and embracing.

Jack threw a handful of birdseed over them while everyone else had been too in awe to remember they also had seeds to toss. Sam remembered himself first, and then Dean and Cas joined in belatedly, scattering handfuls of wildflower seeds that would turn the front lawn into a meadow of color next spring.

The general love fest continued out on the lawn for a few minutes, with everyone else congratulating and exchanging hugs with the happy couple. Dean and Cas drifted a little ways from the rest of the group, already feeling the desire to just be alone together again after seeing two other people finally get their long-awaited happily ever after. Dean found himself gazing at Cas, wondering if Nadia and Penthia had anything on the two of them. It had taken them more than ten years to pull each other out of their respective lakes.

How many times had Cas been dragged back to Heaven, and Dean fallen back into Hell before they finally got to this point? They’d both been through the metaphysical wringer too many times to count, and in the end they both chose humanity and each other. So what if they had some catching up to do? They had all the time in the world now.

Penthia was the first one to suggest they move the proceedings into the house. Now that she was fully human, she was feeling the chill of the late October morning. Even Nadia wrapping her shawl around her shoulders and holding her close hadn’t been enough to warm Penthia against the unaccustomed cold.

“Okay, we’ll go in and get you some socks and a nice cup of tea while we wait for lunch,” Nadia said, leading her into their house and sitting her down by the fire. “Dooly will be here in a half hour or so with lunch, and until then we can let Dean and Cas regale us with hunter stories.”

“Hey, why are you picking on us?” Dean asked in their defense while Cas simply nodded, pleased to tell any story they wished to hear.

“Dude, they already heard all of me and Jack’s stories over the last day and a half,” Sam replied. “I think they’re looking for a veracity check.”

“Hey, we believed your tall tales,” Nadia said, and then grinned at Sam. “We just thought we should hear the rest of some of those stories.”

“I don’t know if a wedding reception is the right place for hunting stories,” Dean said, trying to sound light but not quite hitting the mark.

“Then just tell me about the things you’ve seen, the people you’ve met, and the world beyond my lake,” Penthia replied. “Tell us about road trips and marvelous cities.”

“Or just tell us how you met,” Nadia offered with a raised eyebrow. “Sam tried to explain that one last night, but he was a little hazy on the details.”

“I raised Dean from Hell,” Cas replied, like it was any old run of the mill meet cute.

“Yeah, and then you yelled at me with your angel voice for a day and a half before you finally showed up in person to tell me that God had plans for me. I bet Chuck’s still regretting those plans,” Dean said, laughing.

Cas smiled at him. “I don’t regret any of it… well not most of it.”

Dean reached over and patted him on the knee as they sat down on the sofa. “Yeah, but it still got us here, and hopefully we learned our lessons.”

One early Thanksgiving dinner later, and after an additional several hours of increasingly jovial retellings of dozens of their collective stories, Penthia was finally showing another sign of her new humanity. She yawned, her eyes watering, and completely surprised herself. Blinking around the room, she spotted the clock and gave a little gasp.

“It’s late, and I think I’m sleepy,” she said, turning to Nadia for confirmation of that fact.

“I think the wine may have helped you along there,” Nadia replied, plucking the glass from Penthia’s hand and setting it on the coffee table. “I think it’s time we turned in anyway. We have a long flight tomorrow.”

Penthia perked up at that. “Yes, we do! I’ve wanted to fly away with you for so long, and it’s finally happening.”

“Okay, then,” Dean said, standing up and dragging Cas to his feet with both hands. “I guess we’re outta here then. In case we don’t see you guys before you climb in the big metal death bird, thanks for everything.”

“Yes, thank you,” Cas added, looking specifically at Azeban lounging on a cushion on the floor. “Your trick gave us reason to come here, but everything that’s happened as a result feels more like a gift than a trick.”

Azeban tilted his head to the side in what passed for a raccoon equivalent of a shy shrug, but he got to his feet as well and headed outside with Sam and Jack to the tent they’d set up the night before. Dean and Cas followed shortly behind after saying their goodbyes to the newlyweds at the door.

“So, you two are still going home in the toy plane?” Dean asked as Sam unrolled his sleeping bag inside the tent. “If you change your mind, we won’t leave you stranded, you know.”

Sam glanced up long enough to roll his eyes at Dean. “Yeah, like I’d really rather sit around here for the rest of the week watching the two of you go through the final stages of your mating dance. No thanks.”

Dean looked at Cas, and Cas shrugged, so Dean took that as permission to say it out loud. “I think we finally perfected the mating dance anyway.” At the disgusted look Sam gave him, Dean added, “Hey, you’re the one who keeps throwing me softballs. You can’t complain when I keep hitting ‘em.”

“Yet one more reason I’m choosing to fly home in a tin can rather than spend two days stuck in the car with you. Work it outta your system, and we’ll see you at home in a week or so.”

“It’s gonna take longer than a week to work this out,” Dean replied. “But we’ll probably be home before then anyway.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Jack added poking his head out of the tent, “I’m happy for you both.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Cas replied sincerely.

“But I agree with Sam. I’ll be happier knowing you’re enjoying your time alone.” With that, Dean and Cas said their goodbyes and headed back to their cabin.

“So we’re really going fishing tomorrow?” Cas asked as they drove.

“If you still wanna go fishing, we will. I got no plans other than whatever you wanna do.”

Cas reached over and rested his hand on Dean’s thigh, humming thoughtfully. “If it was warmer, I’d suggest we go swimming.”

Dean shrugged, taking one hand off the wheel to rest it atop Cas’s. “We can come back next summer and swim. And go fishing again, if you like it.”

“Or boating, perhaps. I saw several kayaks at the camp. Maybe it’s not too cold for that.”

“You got a thing for the water now?”

Cas shrugged as Dean turned down the driveway to their cabin, keeping an extra close eye out for wildlife loitering in the road. “Penthia spent her entire life in the water, and now she longs for the air. I spent billions of years up in the air, and maybe now I’m intrigued by what the water here has given me.”

Dean laughed uncomfortably and shut off the car. “Yeah, I guess you could look at it that way. Water’s great, and all. But I’m just glad you found your way to Earth.”

They sat in the car, overlooking the water and the glorious night sky, and decided that together, they had the best of all of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope y'all enjoyed it. Don't forget to check out the rest of the [Dean/Cas Pinefest](http://deancaspinefest.tumblr.com) fics as they roll out over the next few weeks! As always, you can find me on tumblr. I'm [mittensmorgul](http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com).
> 
> The title of this work is from the song, "Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues," by Bob Dylan. Shuffle just happened to play this for me when I'd first started writing it, and just... the opening verses of the song were perfect:
> 
>  
> 
> _Well, I saw it advertised one day_  
>  That the Bear Mountain picnic was comin' my way  
> 'Come along and take a trip, we'll bring you up there on a ship  
> Bring the wife and family, bring the whole kids', yippee
> 
>  
> 
> _Well, I run right down and bought a ticket_  
>  To this thing called the Bear Mountain Picnic  
> Little did I realize, I was in for a pleasant, funny surprise  
> It had nothin' to do with picnics  
> Didn't come close to a mountain, I hate bears
> 
>  
> 
> So of course I immediately made it the working title of this fic. This fic also has nothing to do with picnics, nor mountains. Nor bears, for that matter! But it has an awful lot to do with learning the truth.
> 
> For a direct link to the tumblr promo post for this work for easy reblogging purposes, please click [here](http://deancaspinefest.tumblr.com/post/182845215072/talkin-bear-mountain-picnic-mature-41k).


End file.
